


Neck and Neck (Yandere!Alucard x Reader)

by McSlashy



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Hellsing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magic, Alucard x reader - Freeform, Biting, Character Death, Dark, Dominance, Dragon Priests - Freeform, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flirting, MC Is A Badass, Mages, Magic, Manipulation, Original Character(s), Porn With Plot, Sex, Sexual Tension, Skyrim elements, Slow Burn, Smut, Sneakiness, Vampire Turning, Vampires, Yandere, Yandere Alucard, hellsing - Freeform, non-con, vampire, yandere vampire
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2020-07-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:34:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 11
Words: 87,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21988234
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McSlashy/pseuds/McSlashy
Summary: As a dragon priest, a being praised for their innate extraordinary magic and cunning, you were the perfect opponent for him, an ancient, immortal being. He quickly became obsessed with dominating you -- in more ways than you wanted to accept. Keen on having you his bride, he offers you a wager that may allow you to prolong your life... if everything goes as planned.Will you be able to escape from the king of shadows or will he engulf you?----"Do you want me to spare him?""Yes." You whispered meekly, in a voice you barely recognized as your own."Then kneel and beg." He replied with a playful smirk.You simply stared at the scene that had played out so devilishly before you, a peculiar fire in your eyes that he wanted nothing more than to snuff out. Standing before him, you initially refused to succumb to his pressure. Alas, he had ways to make you submit. Cocking his gun, he aimed the weapon at your comrade. The gun was unnervingly still in his undead hand. He licked his lips."Don't keep me waiting, priest."
Relationships: Alucard (Hellsing) & Reader, Alucard (Hellsing)/Reader, Alucard/Original Character(s)
Comments: 61
Kudos: 284





	1. Prologue: The Capture

**Author's Note:**

> Trigger warning: Super dark themes ahead. This is a yandere vampire fic, after all. Violence, possessive behaviour, and mentionings of non-consensual sex ahead. If you don't feel comfortable reading these things, please take care of yourself first and turn back. :)
> 
> This is my first Hellsing fic (with just a splash of Skyrim lore), so let me know what you think. Of it gets popular enough, I'm going to update more frequently.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only a wager would allow your escape, but you would have to fight him with everything you had -- and then some.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Story Preface: Preface
> 
> Thank you for checking out this story! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. A few things regarding the timeline for you to know before you begin...
> 
> This is a Hellsing x Skyrim crossover universe, though you don't need to know either of the fandoms to understand this story. I try my best to explain important plot points and concepts as I go so that anyone can follow along. The universe has Skyrim's medieval aspects, such as the presence of mages, dragon priests, and certain townships having minimal access to the technology that our time currently has. The universe also has aspects of Hellsing, such as vampires, the Hellsing/Millennium organizations, and ancient grudges from past Hellsing-related events. It's important to note that this story doesn't necessarily follow the same Hellsing plotline, as you'll see. Lastly, the story is set in the 1980s, to clear up any questions regarding date.
> 
> Trigger warnings apply throughout this story, as there is a yandere vampire running around, causing boatloads of ruckus. You'll encounter mild and extreme forms of violence and aggression, possessive behaviour, non-con and discussion of non-con, physical abuse, and manipulation. You'll also encounter themes of mental illness, such as post-traumatic stress disorder and anxiety. If you don't feel entirely comfortable with any of the things mentioned, please don't force yourself to read this.

"Alucard!" You screamed, voice hoarse and throat nearly bleeding. "I know you can hear me, goddammit!"

You had been at this for hours, yelling at darkness, chasing each and every shadow that danced just out of view, begging for the kind of attention that you would surely never get. Not now. Not when he finally had you in his clutches.

Your wrists were rubbed raw from the friction that your shackles created as your wriggled to and fro violently. It didn't help that he had hoisted your chains a little too high, your feet aching from having to maintain posture on your tippy-toes for hours. If your legs gave out on you, you risked dislocating your upper limbs; careful attention had been paid so that you would do no such thing. You were nothing to sneeze at, despite your capture. A powerful being in your own right, you had trained for years in the art of focusing and honing your senses. It took a great amount of effort, and your mental load was beginning to exceed its limit, but you were more determined than you had ever before to be a well-rounded sort of strong. Mind working in overdrive, body stressed to its capacity, and your arcane abilities threatening to deplete for eternity, it was frustrating to be in such a predicament. You were used to prevailing quickly. Until now, you hadn't believed there to be a being in existence capable of confining you with his own two hands.

You were a dragon priest. Not to be confused with a priest of the church, a dragon priest was a powerful mage who had served the dragons during their era in exchange for enhanced magical abilities and knowledge. You, yourself, had never served an actual dragon, but you had been born from a father who had. He had taught you the ways of a dragon priest who specialized in the art of fire before succumbing to old age at the end of his centuries-long life. Though not immortal, dragon priests had a longer life span than most. This was likely due to their thirst for knowledge, their innate desire to learn the secrets of the very universe. You could very well attest to this. You had expanded your artes over the years to spells of illusion, protection, summoning. You had built yourself into a true killing machine, one that not many wished to trifle with.

Until he had happened across you. Him, who had been on a personal quest of his very own, to claim a bride that would live as long as him. A being who was a monster, just as he; an existence that deviated so extremely from the norm that mere mortals came to fear and despise it. He had found himself in you, found all of his desires, all of his lust, and all of his belonging within you. Mad with what you could only describe as an influx of mixed, painful emotions, he had killed your companions one evening, seemingly at random. It was only when he had managed to defeat you in your weakened state and bring you to your eternal prison that he told you why.

"I'm a possessive man, (f/n)." Flashing his incredibly sharp, dangerous fangs at you, he had nuzzled into your neck, then. "And it was such a beautiful night for a bloodbath."

He wouldn't bite you without your permission, wouldn't dare turn you into a creature such as himself without your consent. He made it clear that he would take everything but your soul from you without your consent, of course. You would be stripped of your innocence without an utterance of acceptance, endure bites in many places, some of them intimate, without as much of an agreement, but he refused to turn you into one like himself. It was the only decision that you were able to make for yourself, though you wondered how long it would take for him to revoke this, as well. He may have given you the illusion of power, but you knew that you held none of the cards in this instance. You were not a fool; you knew better than to believe that there was any good of you escaping. You were in his realm, now; in the castle he had fabricated with his otherworldly powers.

"Son of a bitch." You muttered, shaking your head back and forth slowly, eyelids growing heavier by the minute. You could barely believe that you were in this position, at the mercy of a being with a legacy more ancient than your own. Regarded as a stripling yourself, you felt it even moreso whenever you were in his presence. He was the original vampire, the very one that Bram Stoker had written about, albeit inaccurately in numerous instances. Of all the creatures in the world, you had to catch the attention of one of the strongest.

You shivered as a swift draft moved past your bare skin. Anyone else may have been embarrassed by being presented in such a vulnerable, candid state, but you were not just anyone. A body was just a body, and you would not be reduced to reddened cheeks and free tears by having it bare and for the viewing of a lecherous vampire. In the coming days, he would use you in ways that you would despise, ways that would make you cringe when you thought back to them, and ways that would make you scrub your skin a little harder in the shower. It would be his twisted way of bending you, breaking you, but you wouldn't be damaged so easily; you were confident of this.

At that moment your cell door opened, and he was there. Candle in hand, yellow tinted sunglasses shielding his eyes, which were the colour of dark red wine -- seductive and bitter. There was a grin on his face, as he simply adored baring his teeth at you. You admitted that it intimidated you, seeing his fangs only metres away from your defenseless neck. All it would take was poor impulse control one of these days, and you would be undead, his thrall for however long he would keep you for. He wore his usual garb -- a long red trenchcoat with a white dress shirt hiding beneath, heavy black boots and pants to match, with his signature white gloves and red hat. Strands of his handsome black hair covered sections of his forehead, making his appearance all the more sinister. The energy he always radiated around you, another intimidation factor, was stronger than usual today. Perhaps he was upping his game, once again.

You braced yourself as he sauntered across the room, placing the candle onto a stool adjacent to you before removing his hat and glasses. He always did this when he entered, like a ritual.

"I'm sorry," he started. "I know I was gone for a little too long."

He stepped in front of you, gesturing down at your toes, which had gone red from hours of pressure. You had to truly focus, then, to ensure that you didn't lash out and kick wildly at the arrogant king. Cruel and heartless, yet also kind and affectionate if you gave yourself to him; you didn't remember a time where you had hated someone more. Maybe that bastard, Alexander Anderson, before he had been so graciously killed.

"You need to let me go." You snarled, unable to contain your rage.

A gloved hand cupped your face, his hypnotic eyes tracing every single crevice of your naked body. "Aren't you enjoying our time together?" The teasing tone in his voice only fueled your insatiable anger.

He knew that you didn't love him. Shit, he wasn't even sure if it was love that he felt for you. All he knew was that he craved you with every fibre of his being. You were worthy of being at his feet, of serving him as his partner and his lover; didn't you understand this? Some part of you had to realize that you belonged to him, at the very least.

"You're sadistic." You spat, aware only after speaking that that probably wasn't much of an insult.

He chuckled darkly. "Then accept me." One hand fell to your chest, caressing you intimately before sliding down to the curve of your hip. "Let me show you the kindness I am capable of, priest."

You flinched away from his touch, shooting daggers at him with your stern (e/c) eyes. "I will never willingly bed you."

He removed his hands from your form, taking your chin between his thumb and index finger. "You don't know yourself as well as you think, my dear. You'll bed me," he jerked your face closer to his. "and more."

Mind games. How very typical of him. You knew yourself well. He was the one who erroneously believed he knew you. You kept your cool, not wanting to fall for any more of his tricks. The best line of defense against the king of shadows was to act as though you were not phased by his enticement into a lengthy descent of madness. You wouldn't be fooled by his traps to draw out irrelevant discourse between the two of you.

He lowered your shackles down so that you could rest on the stone floor of your cell, but just on your knees. You gasped, feeling the damp ground against your flesh. It was nice to take the weight off of your feet. It wasn't long before he was hovering over you yet again, however, hunger in his insane eyes.

"Rest while you can, my beautiful little (f/n). I'll return for you later." His constraint didn't slip past your senses. You weren't sure how he had been able to contain himself and walk away from you in that moment, knowing what you knew of his terrible impulse control. He turned away from you and walked to the exit, leaving the candle behind so that you would have light until it burned to its base. He knew how much you missed daylight. You could never quite see the sun from the bottom level of the castle, the very one he had inhabited since the fall of the Hellsing Organization. This was the least he could do for you, the defiant, soon-to-be-tamed young woman he would spend the rest of his days with. Besides, if he showered you with nothing but cruelty, there was no way you would come around. Giving you little privileges here and there were advocates to help with his various persuasion attempts. You couldn't remain stubborn forever.

You lifted your head to watch him leave, (h/c) locks framing your face in a manner that made you look far younger than you were. He was correct; there really was only so much you could take. It was only a matter of time before you shattered into a billion pieces, so broken that you would be unable to glue the slivers of your soul back together. At the rate you were going, strong as you were, it was only a matter of time before you accepted him. Sooner or later, you would grow dependent on his small gestures, forgetting that you only needed such privileges because he had imprisoned you. Sooner or later, you would grow to miss his touch, counting down the hours until he returned to visit your cell, counting down the minutes until he undid your restraints and took you into his bed with him.

You felt nauseous merely thinking of such things now, which was what pushed you to bargain with your freedom right then. You rattled your chains as you took to your feet, wobbling for just a moment before regaining your balance. He had placed a restricting bracelet onto your right wrist upon capturing you, crafted by one of your own kind long before your birth, its original use to contain murderers and traitors who were far more powerful than mortal vigilantes. It made you weak and out of touch with your abilities. You couldn't conjure up any of your magic, the energy that once freely flowed to you now nothing but a dull hum buried deep in your core. Beyond the arcane, you found it difficult just to stand up straight and move around. This made escaping seem like even more of a fairytale than it already did. Nonetheless, you persisted.

"Give me back the energy to use my abilities." You bargained boldly. "Fight me on equal ground."

He stopped in his tracks, not yet turning to face you, but clearly interested in your proposition. "What would I gain from allowing that?"

You narrowed your eyes, dead serious, hating that you had to do this. You had never wanted to see yourself sink this low. You had heard of dragon priests of old, their malice driving their actions toward mortals under their reign. Though known as horrid beings in their own right, none could deny that they were powerful in all aspects. Being captured as easily as you had been was a disgrace and you wanted a rematch. If you could remove yourself from his lair and his careful glare, you knew you could stand a real chance at fleeing. You had to put it all on the line.

"My obedience." You almost had to lunge forward to get the words past your lips. "I'll allow you to bite me."

He was grinning from ear to ear. "I've already bitten you. Be specific, my dear."

You thought of his slow demise to stop yourself from trying to run at him in a blind rage and from cringing violently. "I'll let you turn me into one of your kind. I'll give myself to you willingly."

He disappeared from his place at the door, instantly materializing before you. His eyes were glowing and his face was pleased. "Do you understand what you're saying? Do you understand what I'll do to you?"

You nodded, a slow and calculated bob of your head. "I'll cease to exist. My soul will be yours, and you will have me under your complete control."

He brought his face close to yours, his lips only a centimeter or two away from claiming exactly what he wanted. His breathing had grown rapid, and he was salivating ever so slightly. "Can you part with your identity, priest? Can you say goodbye to your magic and reasoning?"

He was taunting you. An awfully confident vampire was nothing novel to that species, nevertheless, you were still offended. Did he think you to be easy prey to a being of his calibre? You didn't think that he knew of your true potential, your mastered artes, or your will to survive as your own person. It may have been cockiness, in that moment, but you doubted that you would chance losing yourself during this rematch. You had a very good feeling that you would prevail.

Once again, you confirmed. "I want a rematch, Alucard."

The way you said his name lit his body on fire. He wanted to hear it ring from your lips for eons to come. He wanted to hear you beg for him in that exact tone, and you would -- in time. He would humor this silly game, for it was something to do that would allow him to learn more about you. It would also give him another opportunity to conquer you, showing you that you were, indeed, far weaker than him. Maybe this would make you realize that this was your role, as a weaker being. Ah, yes; the thrill of the hunt was rushing back to him. Since being freed from his contract with the Hellsing family upon Sir Integra's demise, he hadn't let himself truly regain control as an apex predator. Dominating you would allow him to feel as though he was a master again, with a thrall beneath him to do his bidding, instead of the other way around. His grin grew even larger.

"Then you will have it, my (f/n)." He spoke, voice filled with lust. Stroking your face softly, like a lover would, he stared deeply into your eyes, losing himself in the vast waves of (e/c). "Under several conditions."

You didn't shrink, meeting his aggressive gaze with one of your own. "Name them."

"Do not involve anyone else in our little game."

You hadn't planned on it.

"You will remain in this country."

Romania? That thwarted your plans of escaping just a tad. You would have to break that rule. He had the upper hand here, in his birth land, where he knew the Carpathians that stretched for miles and miles like the back of his gloved hands.

"The game ends if you manage to kill me."

You smirked at that. A rather obvious condition, wasn't it?

"Or when I incapacitate you."

That wasn't going to fucking happen.

"If you break any of the rules, I'll reactive your bracelet and leave you at the mercy of the elements, anyone around you," he snatched your chin in his hand again, pressed a rough kiss against your neck. "and me."

"It won't come to that." You hissed. "I don't need to run anywhere to defeat you. My powers and a fair shot are enough."

This was half true; you had planned to flee from Eastern Europe in favour of France or somewhere even further. You had faith in your abilities, but you weren't sure what tricks he had in store for you on his own territory. This game of his wad terribly skewed in his favour, as you had expected it to be. Still, it was either accept his conditions or be left to both yours and his devices in this cell. You would regret it if you didn't try.

He pressed his cold lips against yours in a last display of dominance before he unchained your wrists from the shackles attached to the ceiling. This would be the first time in three weeks that your arms had not been hoisted above your head. Flexing your unused muscles and rubbing your raw wrists, you sat still as he tossed you the robes he had removed from your form just four days ago. The cloak that had belonged to your father, the one embellished with dragon scales and flame retardants, was within the pile. You were happy that it hadn't been tossed out in a desperate ploy to harm you. Black pants and your grey and black patterned mage robes were there, too. He could have forced you to face him bare. It was somewhat peculiar to you that he hadn't. Was it because he really did want to face you at your strongest?

You dressed yourself in seconds, disregarding the pair of eyes tracing your skin as it disappeared from his sight. He had grown used to your body these last few days; he would miss it. Thankfully, you would be back where you belonged soon enough, so he wouldn't have to yearn for you long. Still, he was excited to see what you had to offer. He didn't doubt that you were a worthy opponent and now he would witness your capabilities with his own eyes.

He picked up his hat and sunglasses from the chair that hosted the burning candle; it wasn't a hunt without these items. Moving out of the way of the exit, he leaned against the wall and motioned for you the leave. You didn't need to be told twice, feeling the magic slowly rush back through your veins as he relinquished his restriction on your energies. It would take a while for you to feel totally replenished, but by the time you left the castle you were positive that you would have at least a quarter of your abilities back. As you rounded the corner of the basement, running as fast as your (short/long) legs could carry you, his voice moved through the space alongside you.

"Ten minute head start." It whispered, tone sinister. "Be sure to mask your presence. I want to see what you're made of, dragon priest. Show me why you belong at my side."

You had never been more determined to fight; this was the confrontation of your life.


	2. Chapter I: The Preface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alucard is lonely and desires another mate, at long last. A dragon priest, due to their long lives and enhanced magic abilities, would be a perfect choice for a beast such as himself, who wants a bride that is more than fit to rule at his feet. Capturing the reader, the ancient vampire explains what's at stake, and why she should submit to him quietly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Dark themes ahead.

In your youth, you had been shocked to find others like you, children with a dragon priest as a parent. Integrating yourself with those who understood how to harness their unique powers had been helpful in developing your own skills and battle prowess. Your father had told you that a strong desire for knowledge ran in the family; your ancestors had all been too curious for their own good, and you were much the same. This had been why your father had fallen into an eternal devotion to the dragons of old; he had wished for answers that no mortal being had access to.

He had seen both the rule and fall of the dragons. Soon after the fall, though many of the other original priests had chosen to rest with their scaly masters, your father had persisted. He had lost the extra strength bestowed upon him by the dragons with their end, but he had retained the spells and skill that he had attained throughout his servitude.

After an unlikely tryst with a beautiful mortal woman, your mother, in London, England at the end of the second world war, your father had helped conceive you. He would be absent in your life for much of your youth until your mother succumbed to ovarian cancer, the week after you would turn thirteen. It was a hidden fact that dragon priests existed, and one that you had gradually grew to believe as your father guided you through the arcane world.

You grew stronger with each year that passed, learning the lore of your father's people and deciphering ancient texts with spells long forgotten. You studied as a mage in a top English school in Berlin, finally graduating as a master of your element, fire. You picked up other skills, such as creating wards of protection and summoning spiritual armour, along your academic journey, turning you into one well-rounded opponent.

Guns and swords? You could use them, but you wouldn't ever claim to be proficient in hand-to-hand or pistol-fire combat. If given a tome and your inner energies, however, you were as confident as a shark in a vast sea of defenseless guppies. This was where your troubles had lied.

Once your father had passed away, not long after your graduation, you had been alone. In an attempt to defeat your loneliness and fixate on something other than isolation, you had joined a guild of fellow dragon priests, hell-bent on defeating evil beings and assisting mortals as white magic mages. The guild had wanted to reinvent how mortals thought of mages, and you had shared their sentiment. Working with them had always been rewarding. You had even developed a small crush on one of the other members who you were often paired with for missions, Henrick. A tall, dashing young mage, he was as intelligent as he was handsome. The best part was that he had thought the same of you, confessing his feelings to you during your final initiative together.

That was when Alucard had taken it upon himself to lure you away with the sinister assistance of his fledgling, Seras, easily slaughtering the rest of your four-mage team by picking them off swiftly and one by one. Oh, how inexperienced they had been; they hadn't even seen him coming. When you had returned, having solved the fledgling's fake problem of locating her late mother's lost ring, you had been disgusted beyond comprehension. Everyone you had formed a connection with over the past years had been brutalized in the worst possible ways. One man's heart had been ripped out and stuffed into his mouth, his throat sliced open soon after. Another woman had had her arms torn off, but your crush had been in the worst state. Poor Henrick had had his legs shattered with what appeared to be silver bullets before he had died by asphyxiating on his own blood via punctured lungs. Too horrified by the sights before you and too weak from vomiting to sense his presence, you screamed bloody murder when a silver bullet had pierced your shoulder, sending you to the ground with enough force to additionally sprain your ankle.

Your mouth filled with blood as you looked up at the man who had shot you from behind. That had been your first true look at Alucard in the flesh. You hadn't expected to see the king of the night there with you, as your antagonist. He had been vanished with the Hellsing organization, or so you had thought.

"Such a beautiful night." He uttered merrily, gazing up that the full moon. His fledgling, Seras Victoria, materialized next to him, staring down at you with bright red eyes. You had been at a loss for words. This hadn't been a fair fight; this had been the work of a coward. Yet, you felt like the weakling, laying on the earth, bleeding out decades of your bloodline, decades of hopes and dreams that would all be gone in an instant.

"Why...!?" You gasped, catching his darkened glare beneath his sunglasses. In that moment, you had been so sure that you were going to die. There was no way in hell that this monster who had so disturbingly destroyed your comrades would spare you, or so you had believed.

He knelt down, taking a good look at you by removing his glasses and inspecting your dark face. He had never seen you up close, just from afar. He had first come across you during your mission in Munich, only a year prior. He had kept a close eye on you and your teammates as you had offered to use your abilities to help a woman negate the effects of vampirism on her daughter. She had only been in the early stages of the infection, so you and your team had managed to succeed, much to Alucard's chagrin. You had piqued his interest from there, and when he started thinking about the characteristics of his ideal mate.

The recent years had been long and dull since the fall of Hellsing. He knew that his fledgling would always be by his side, but he desired something more, someone who was his equal in many ways, but someone who he could still conquer at the end of the day. He wished to have a queen again. Mina Harker, many years ago, had served as his first and only countess, only to be stolen away by a group of trifling humans. She had been headstrong, incredibly smart, and one of the most gorgeous and enticing women he had ever laid eyes upon. Upon capturing her and showing her life in darkness, he quickly fell in love with her. She had been, in a word, perfect for him, at the time. His tastes had since grown.

As a lifeless being, he was destined to live for eons lest he experienced an untimely demise. There were few others like him, and he had decided against a mate of the same species. If he would have a vampire as a mate, she will have been turned into one of his kind by his fangs and her own free will. He wanted to build his own wife, in a manner of speaking. Besides, there were too many vampiresses lurking about with a thirst of vengeance and the goal to usurp. He wanted to shape a woman just as capable as he was, if not just a little less so, into someone devoted to being by his side. If this meant demolishing who she had been prior to encountering him, then so be it. In his eyes, it was immoral, but exceptionally worth the wrongdoing.

His thoughts wafted to you more than expected in the coming days. Dragon priests; there were only a handful of your kind left, but those that remained were regarded as robustly mighty in tact and magic. Once mortal, they had the power of both gods and dragons at their fingertips, passed down from times of old. You were worth; this, he knew from your lineage alone. Would you make a good mate? Could your soul be malleable enough for him to take into his control and shape in ways that he saw fit? Likely. You were new to the world, barely past the age of twenty, if he had to guess. Young and supple, it may be easier to mold you than someone with more experience. Though, wouldn't someone with experience be more fun?

He deliberated on this for several days, keen on making the correct choice. If he decided that he had been wrong to choose you halfway through the process, he would be forced to kill you. As the last few of a dying breed, Alucard didn't feel right about putting your life to an end if he could help it. Though, his decision about preserving a group of beings had been soon tossed out the window when he had used his abilities to slaughter your comrades. Nonetheless, this protection of your life was something you could look forward to with having him as your king.

His quest to grow accustomed to your personality and innate nature consumed most of his time until your eventual abduction. Then, as he and Seras hovered over your semi-conscious form, your blood trickling out of your fresh wound, he knew he had made a fateful choice. The strength in your eyes was not suffocated by the prospect of death. So attuned to pain you had become, you were able to keep calm during such a tumultuous time. It had been deeply impressive, arousing much more than just his vampiric senses.

He knelt down, hand tangling in (h/c) tresses before he graced you with an answer. "In time, my (f/n)," he had whispered. "I'll tell you everything when you wake up."

And what a wake up you had experienced; darkness everywhere, your body had hurt, and your arms were pulled above your head. Places on a bed in nothing but your undergarments had certainly been a shock, but it hadn't been enough to completely throw you off your zen. You remained in place for what seemed like forever before you had gotten into a sitting position on the mattress. Your zen started to shatter when you noticed that your undergarments were pure white, and not the ones you had originally been wearing. You had a terrible feeling that you knew what your abductor had in mind for you. On your wrist, had been the suppression bracelet, nearly crushing your bone with how tight it had been clamped on. Over the course of the next few weeks, you would grow used to the pain, but at that time it had made you groan. There were no sheets on the bed for you to cover your skin, which had developed gooseflesh due to the dank chill in the air.

No windows or light sources anywhere, you weren't sure who was around you or what was looming in wait beyond your hideaway. It had made your heart nearly stop when you heard footsteps echo down what sounded like a long corridor. You had never been the type to play it safe in instances like these, knowing well that making noise would get you more answers than silence.

"Hey!" You had called, voice stern. "I'm awake and wondering what's going on. Let's get the introductions over with."

The wound in your shoulder had remained tender; even speaking made it throb. Worse yet, your ankle was too swollen to move. Even if you hadn't been chained in place and locked away, you wouldn't have gotten far anyway. This had been your first of various disheartening thoughts.

"Ah, I see." An intrigued voice sounded from beyond your cell door. There was a hint of light that spilled through from the gap between the door and the door frame. The vampire had brought a candle with him, just as he would every single time he came to check on you until you fled from his domain. He unlocked the door with one dreadful, mechanical thud and revealed himself to you. You hadn't been very perturbed, even considering the sick grin that had been plastered on his visage. It shrank only minutely when he noticed that you weren't intimidated by his appearance.

"I want to know your name." You spoke firmly. This had been your first line of business.

"Alucard." His voice had been smooth, like melted caramel spilling painstakingly into your mouth. "The impaler."

"Dracula," you muttered, more to yourself than him. You knew the legends this man had left behind all too well, from his reign as Vlad the Impaler in the 1400s to his involvement against the Nazis in the 1940s. If he was who he said he was, trouble had found you. "The original, I presume?"

He removed his glasses and hat, then, as it doing so would somehow make him seem like less of a beast. The candle burned wickedly as it was set onto the ground near the stranger's feet. Placing a hand on the area where his heart would have been beating, had he been alive, he had feigned hurt. "I assure you, my dear; I am no mimic."

In the blink of an eye, Alucard had disappeared into the shadows that crept about you. His eyes were everywhere, his voice bouncing off of every space on every wall in the small, suffocating room. The dizziness that overcame you as you faced the No-Life King's tremendous strength made you want to vomit.

And you had, spilling your fluids over the side of the bed at the last second, eyes clamped shut and stomach feeling as though it was being ripped to shreds. He wasn't capable for mere physical attacks. No -- his abilities allowed him to penetrate the mind of his victims, forcing them to see exactly what he wanted them to see, whether it pleasant imagery or an utter abomination. In your case, the visual and mental stimulation had been like none that you had ever experienced, and this alone had sent you over the deep end. This creature was tough, a prime aspect that you had anticipated from the original, pure-blooded vampire. The man had had years to perfect his art of fear and arousal, which set him very well apart from other beings.

When you had gathered the gall to open your eyes again, wondering what horror you would face within the next few seconds, he had returned to his previous form. Your heart was put at ease, though only slightly and for a mere second. Face shrouded in darkness, he walked to the edge of the mattress, bending over to press his hands against it as he leered at you. He had scared you, disgusted you, even, and yet you had still found the courage to lift your head and face him once more. The uncertainty would have deterred others, but not you. For a stripling of a dragon priest, it was impressive. His intuition had not been incorrect.

"Did I convince you?" He asked, teasing you in what he had considered good humor.

"You did." You confirmed, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and flinching when you moved your wound in a disagreeable way. "But you've also left me confused."

He raised a thin black brow, immune to the pain that splashed across your face like paint of a tarnished canvas. "Oh?"

"The ultimate vampire has killed my friends and captured me." You mused, tone cold. "Why was I unlucky enough to survive the attack? Do you mean to torture me?"

He could have laughed in your face at that moment. You had half expected him to. It was peculiar to you when he moved back and set his hands at his side once more, giving you the space you had desired. "What I mean to do with you would only be considered torture to some, my pretty little priest."

You weren't sure you wanted to know what that meant.

"I have taken you to be my bride."

"Your bride?" You asked incredulously. There had to be some mistake.

You hadn't heard of vampires taking on brides in recent years, not since the end of the second world war. For the last few decades since, there hadn't been much of a peep out of the vampires who remained. The fall of the Hellsing Organization had precipitated a decrease in vampirism, likely because they had managed to wipe out any particularly dangerous beings that threatened the safety of mortals. Except Alucard, himself, of course, though you doubted that Sir Integra, the leader of the infamous group, had thought about the repercussions of allowing such a mighty vampire to exist without being bound. Her demise had been abrupt, and you heard that she had freed him then, trusting in him to carry on his monster-like ways but to a lesser extent than he had in the past.

What a joke.

You weren't sure if the cancer had altered her judgement in the end, or if she had just grown soft. Regardless, she had made a grave error, and one that you would absolutely suffer for. The master of all vampires, the original Vlad the Impaler, had come for you, with the intent to take you as his. Men like him didn't understand the concept of 'no', not when they had the very power of the universe at their disposal. What had possessed him to hunt for a wife? Perhaps the years had been rough without a companion by his side, someone to indulge in, someone to break apart and put back together again, like a thousand piece puzzle.

"I don't understand."

"I've been... rather lonely." He admitted with a coarse sigh.

"You have your fledgling." You countered, not quite understanding the dynamic that existed between them, but knowing well enough that the blonde vampire was important in some way to him.

"Seras is not my bride. I can't share with her what I can with you. I don't want her to share my bed, as she is not someone I wish to rebuild into a queen fit to rule by my side." His explanation had been sinister in nature, probably more so than he had realized. "Besides, she's a vampire."

"Don't much care for your own kind?"

"No." He grinned. "Dragon priests are more my type."

"Yet, you'll turn me eventually." You continued, not willing to be side-tracked by his anxiety-provoking comments.

"When you ask me to." He confirmed.

"And if I never do?"

That was the million dollar question. You were positive that he would not let you leave this prison without turning you, despite your vehement desire to not become a vampire's bride. You weren't sure what the process entailed, but you didn't like the way he was speaking. It was as if you would be a mere plaything for him to shape and mold, as if your personality and innate qualities would no longer matter once he got his hands on you. It didn't just start with being turned into a vampire, at the mercy of his whims and commands upon him biting into the flesh on your neck. On the contrary, it began with mind games and violations beyond your wildest dreams. He would transform you into one of his kind without your consent, but he wasn't opposed to inflicting other atrocities on you. You would surely learn this in the weeks to come.

"If you never do?" He mused, tilting his head back and looking at the grey slabs that made up the ceiling. "The thought never crossed my mind."

'Cocky, cocky, cocky,' you thought angrily. With how handsome and charismatic he was, he had probably seldom been denied. Having hypnotic powers that worked wonders on mortals was also helpful.

"I suppose if you deny me for too long, I'll have to step up my game, create a wager." You were sure it would come to that; you weren't planning to accept this man into your life.

"I won't accept you." You said with resolve. "You've killed my comrades and intend to force your plans upon me. This is not how marriage proposals work, vampire."

He stepped closer to the mattress once again, taking your chin into his hand swiftly. "And would you have accepted a more... traditional proposal by my hand?"

You wrestled your head out of his iron-like grip. "No, but it would have been a fine display of decency."

He froze and you thought you had oddly offended him. The silence was deafening around you, a low hum from his throat breaking it in the coming minutes that extended into a harsh cackle. The cackle then turned into a hearty laughter, one that didn't last long in its jolly tone, but one that had shocked you nonetheless. 

You had amused him with your serious comment; of course you had. Only a sick creature would find your misfortune entertaining. You sat in place, waiting for him to calm himself, seething inwardly. You knew he was watching you, connecting the way in which your once calm expression was replaced by one of moderate annoyance. It only served to prolong his laugh. When he had finally gathered himself, he apologized gently, his words bearing little truth.

"You caught me off guard, little one; forgive me."

"Everyone should be afforded a choice." You elaborated, failing, as a being with structured morals, to see what had been so funny.

"Should they, my dear?" The vampire sneered. "What of birth? What of fate? It is difficult to afford choice unto the blind."

If this had been a debate about being born or grasping at the hands of destiny, you may have conceded. Having an identity and being able to choose what to do with one's life, however, was not to be considered as a topic of debate.

"We aren't discussing an arbitrary matter that is out of our hands." You insisted. "We're discussing marriage."

"You continue to use the term marriage as if it means something," the malicious Dracula scoffed. "Not once have I alluded to marrying you."

You stared at him for a moment. More mind games. He had said the word proposal and alluded to everything involving a real marriage. Though, by now, you had caught on that becoming a bride and getting married were two distinct things. Groaning and almost completely beside yourself, you thought that the least he could have done was clarify this for you.

"Explain to me what a bride is, in the way of your species." It had been more of a demand than a request. You had been lucky that his mood had been light, for if he had been in the slightest bit more of a mood, you may have been punished for your insolence. In time, he knew, you would learn to address him properly.

"In the way of my species, as you say, a bride represents one or many draculinas, all of which belong to one master vampire."

"The master vampire having turned them, himself?" You asked.

"In most cases." He shrugged.

"So, they're treated as property, much like one would be treated in the terms of traditional marriage."

Alucard grinned. "Willing property, priest. These women are turned when they ask to be turned. Some of my kind have been known to revert to hypnotism to speed up the process. Such petty foul play is befitting of weaker beings than I."

You rolled your eyes at his boastful nature, steering him back on track. "Why might a woman ask to be turned?"

"Power, immortality, knowledge... Perhaps some of them grew to love their captors over time."

The reasons were along the lines of what you had been expecting. None of them applied to you, however. As a dragon priest, you father had guided you down the path of strength and comprehension much more so than a vampire could have. Not to mention, you had wanted to carry on his legacy as a mighty mage. Becoming the obedient bride of Dracula wasn't on your list of things to accomplish before your death, which would come decades from now if you were lucky.

"Threat?" You were catching on.

"Threats are acceptable, though not preferable." He replied, a strange glint in his eye.

This was good news for you. There were people in your life that you didn't want to be brought into this mess, like your best friend and remaining family members. If he hadn't been so opposed to sinking to such a manipulative level, you might have been more worried at that moment. As it stood, he would not turn you and he would not harm those close to you. You could work with this.

"What will you do to change my mind?"

Your inquiry was almost a tease to him. You thought yourself to be just as strong as he, and yet you had been brought to your knees by a silver bullet to the shoulder. Hell, you hadn't even been able to sense the vampiric disease coursing through Seras when she had approached you for assistance. Yes, on many ways you were well-established in what you were, but on other levels you confidence was simply unfounded. He would do his best to show you just this during your time together. It wouldn't do for him to have a bride who believed herself better than him in every aspect.

"I imagine you would like to be treated with respect and decency." To which you hesitated before nodding, believing that the man before you to be less than astute in reading social cues. "I won't afford you those luxuries during your time resisting me. If you were, however, a good girl, I would have to reward you."

He grinned at that, fangs exposed and eyes damn near hysterical with lust. "I'm not a monster."

You didn't give him the satisfaction of physical discomfort. In terms of what he had said, you had expected as much. Though off-putting, receiving this news wasn't overtly appalling. You weren't sure you wanted to know what being good meant, though; these rewards he spoke of were likely only things that he deemed rewarding. You would not be degraded any further with pleasantries.

"Anything but turning me without permission goes?"

You would receive an in-depth answer to this question in time. In the next few days, he would do everything but have his way with you... in the most literal sense of the term, at least. There would be marks littering your nude body, your mind would be jumbled from lack of essential nutrients and water, and your stubbornness would dull to nothing above the flare of a match. You would slowly start to decay, your mind and body knowing nothing but him and the surrounding blackness. Only when you were at your wit's end, would you propose to him another way to dominate your being; a challenge was right up his alley.

You weren't the type to walk into these sorts of things unprepared, without a premeditated plan, but this little game would be the only hope you would have left. Either way, it would bring your struggling relationship with the devious Alucard to a close. One of you would get what the other did not want, and one of you would happily bask in a great victory. Though the vampire was quite sure that he would prevail, you would put up nothing short of a fight.

You would prove to be one of the most worthy opponents he would ever face.


	3. Chapter II: Dark Gamble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You begin your battle with Alucard. Twists and turns in the heat of the match await, as well as your chance to buy some extra time.

Only two minutes into the wager and less than eight minutes left to your head start. Placing a hand in front of your running form, palm flat toward the ground, you cast the ever-helpful clairvoyance spell. This had been one of the first spells your father had taught you. It generated a dull, smokey light that guided you toward where you wanted to go, if you been there prior. Since you had never entered the castle consciously or on your own, you had to envision your home, (name of hometown), to determine the route to the exit.

Once outside, four minutes into the wager and less than six minutes left of your head start, you didn't cease moving your legs, but dropped the spell in favour of charging flames to one of your palms. With your other hand, you pressed your index finger to your lips and closed your eyes. You envisioned a blue circle around yourself, closing you off from the living Earth and making you undetectable. Though still able to see you, no being would be able to listen for your vital signs, such as your heartbeat or breathing. Everything had been, in a way, muted for everyone other than yourself. This was one of the secrets the dragons had taught their priests.

"Laas," you whispered, completing the spell.

He had wanted you to put up a fight, and you were determined to prove to yourself that you weren't a pushover. The first time he had captured you had been due to trickery and stealth; you hadn't been expecting him. This time, however, you felt more prepared. It may have been far-fetched but you truly believed you could defeat him.

There was snow littering the ground everywhere you looked. If you wanted to be undetectable, you would have to take flight. Pressing your foot harshly into the cold fluff, you kicked off and launched yourself into the air, hovering above ground for a mere second to catch your bearings before shipping away with the frigid wind.

It was eight minutes into the game and you were sweating. It was like hide and seek, at this point. You wondered if you should find somewhere to hide, but swiftly decided against it. If you trapped yourself somewhere, you would be a sitting duck. Alucard was likely more powerful than you could yet comprehend. You would have to get a feel of his battle prowess first before you committed to such a reckless, last resort ploy. The most effective thing for you to do was move as far away from his domain as possible. God knew how long he had resided there. You had heard that Romania is his homeland and he had spoken quite highly of it during one of his many rendezvous with your aching, imprisoned body. Even escaping from the horrid looming structure wasn't enough to guarantee your safety, if this really was his home territory.

"Night eye," you whispered the name of a spell that would allow you to see in the dark, so long as you continuously charged magic to your eyes. Had you been a regular mage, using this much magic at once would have been exhausting, to be sure.

Hovering toward an old barn house, you decided to stop for a moment to gather your bearings. There was only one minute left before he came after you; were you forgetting anything? Vampires had the upper hand at night with their spectacular vision, but you had accounted for that. You could fly just the same as him. You recalled your study of alteration spells, such as wards for protection, but decided against calling up the magic for that. You wanted to draw as little of a presence to yourself as possible. You weren't sure if he had the ability to sense the presence of powerful magic; it was better to play it safe and use only the necessities.

An idea crossed your mind, at that. Thirty seconds were left before he came bursting through the doors after you. You had the time to do this, if you were quick. 

You flew at the speed of the harsh wind, placing and hiding a flame rune beneath the snow. If he even so much as hovered over the marking, it would be set off, flinging bursts of fire everywhere. At the very least, you would hear the explosion and know where he was. You placed another one near where you had collected yourself seconds earlier, and flew off just five seconds before the game began. Jolting forward, you blew across the snow and against the icy gusts, leaving destructive elemental runes every dozen meters, scattered, with no movement plan to indicate where the next would be. Your casting speed had been unmatched in your group of comrades; you would put this skill to use.

You knew that this vampire was above cheating, though not necessarily trickery. You would have to stay on your toes, if you wanted to defeat him. These were your final thoughts before your head start had run out. In the distance, you glanced back to see the doors of the castle creeping open, black shadows slithering out of their hiding places, hell-bent on capturing you within their toxic confines. It wasn't a disturbing sight -- you had seen far worse during your travels -- but it certainly made the hairs on the back of your neck rise.

You flew higher, still not daring -- or stupid -- enough to hide from your trickery opponent. Whispering a quick chant beneath your breath, you closed your eyes to focus on the elements and auras around you. Even though no life ran through his being, you would still be able to track him using this method. Performing this spell allowed you to determine what was nearby, be it man or beast. So long as it was moving, you would notice it. Sure enough, the blackness that moved out of the grand structure several kilometers behind you could be tracked. A smirk dawned your face. They were making a bee-line toward your first rune. Your eyes widened when they split into five differ by directions, whipping through the night air like hair with a life of its own.

Boom.

That was one.

Two. Three. Four. Five!

Alas, your runes didn't stop them; they didn't even freeze the tendrils. You gritted your teeth and cursed beneath your breath as they rushed toward you at god-like speed. Forcing yourself backward into the air, you charged flames to both of your palms this time and shot several daggers at the monstrosity. If ice didn't work, fire might. Some of the shadows recoiled, though others continued their trajectory. In your head, his deep voice echoed.

"I have evolved past the weaker elements, my dear." He growled, tone deadly and utterly parched.

They were going to capture you, and so quickly after you had fled. The only way to escape was to cast a rather risky spell. The ancient dragons had taught your father something that was forbidden in the college for mages. It allowed the user to become ethereal, untouchable, but only for a few moments. The longest it would stick was ten seconds.

Taking a deep breath, you forced the energy throughout your body and pushed it outward. In but a second, you were gone. The tendrils continued their pace and zipped right through where you had previously been, in your unaltered form. You took the time to land so that you could catch your bearings when the magic wore off. Alucard did the same, shadows combining from what seemed like every corner of the area to form the vampire you knew him to be. This was important to note, you knew, as if you prediction was correct, then he had eyes everywhere that his shadows could stretch. You watched with a feigned lack of interest as the final tendril retracted, this one taking longer than the rest. How much could he see with just his shadows, you wondered. Knowing at least this much would have helped you greatly.

"Ah, a forbidden technique." The impressive being before you mused, adjusting his red hat. "Interesting to see it in person. I'd only ever heard of it until now."

"Is the goal to kill me, flatter me, or force me into submission?" You asked, annoyed with the small talk already.

He chuckled, bloody eyes locked with your own for only a split second before glancing at the old barn that stood next to you. "None of the above." He replied, voice lost in thought.

Suddenly, the sky brightened, as if the sun had decided to rise several hours before necessary. Your face contorted in confusion before you swiftly clicked into what was going on. His eyes. You hadn't even noticed that he had ditched his sunglasses somewhere. You had looked right into them without care just now, without registering what they were capable of. A silly mistake on your part.

"Hypnotism." You hissed.

"Is it?" Alucard tilted his head to the side, black hair flowing in the wind. This was yet another attempt to manipulate you.

Nodding, you pursed your lips and exhaled deeply. "Very much so."

And then you were back, as if nothing had ever happened. You had managed to negate the effects rather simply, in a manner that no mortal could accomplish. It was a complex matter of convincing your mind that your physical body was not where it thought it was. You could tell by the look on his face that he was both impressed and a tad angry. He had probably hoped to finish this little charade within a timely hour.

"You underestimated me." You said knowingly, to which he shook his head.

The truth was, though frustrated, he was quite impressed with your energy and vigor. You were more than a worthy opponent, being able to break his gaze and return yourself to reality without succumbing to his trickery. You had been well prepared for this brawl. He had known you would be a fabulous opponent; that much had never been up for debate. He had been testing the waters initially, not wanting to go too far or start off too weak. He hadn't wanted to kill you with too much, or offend you with too little.

"On the contrary," he smirked. "I'm testing the waters."

"Don't you have better things to do?" You asked, trying to egg him on. "This act of yours seems repetitive."

You weren't sure if you could handle his true potential but you wanted to determine such as soon as possible. You had tactics up your sleeve that could get you out of difficult situations, should you be captured within one. If it turned out he was stronger than you suspected, you would be forced to flee further or concede. You couldn't forget that he still had the ability to restrict your magic if you crossed the Romanian border. This put you in a perplexing situation. If it happened that you could not defeat the vampire, there was the option to end your life before he had the opportunity to claim you. This would be tricky, however, as you would have to commit the suicide in one shot. There could be no room for survival immediately after the blow, meaning you would have to detonate yourself. There was an old method that allowed the magic user to explode to dust by focusing extreme amounts of energy within themselves. You knew it well, but you weren't sure you would be able to successfully execute it. If the casting failed, you might end up merely blowing off a limb.

You gritted your teeth at such morbid thoughts. You couldn't afford to fixate. You had to keep your head in the game. It would do you no good to calculate the duration of your life and would only serve to hinder you with the latent fear these notions brought.

"Not at all." He replied finally. He really didn't. If you were his future, then he was exactly where he ought to be.

Rolling your eyes, you closed them for a split second. In but an instant, (e/c) hues were white. Not only was this an intimidation factor by all rights of a threatening appearance, it was also another lost technique. This allowed you to cast faster than before for as long as you could maintain it. Since practicing, you had grown comfortable enough to hold it for at least five minutes. Enough was enough. If he wouldn't show you his power, you would drive it out or him; it would be a bonus if he actually died.

Shifting off of the ground with lightning speed, you felt a flicking blaze surge through your hands once again. It took only a ghost of a second to cast one of the best offensive moves you had.

"Wall of flames." You mumbled, shooting a bolt of flames toward the earth in a jagged circle around yourself. A border rose as far as the eye could see and ever upward, capturing your form inside its dangerous confines. In between the rise and you inhaling, you used the last of your remaining energy to become ethereal once more. Wafting gently beyond the terribly hot ring, you crept backward and moved until you were but a speck of blackness in the distance. This would buy you time to recharge. God knew he wouldn't have let you recuperate had he known you had lacked the strength for an informed attack.

Or perhaps he had let you escape.

You shuddered despite sweating from the fire that coursed through your veins. No -- you couldn't let yourself believe that. He couldn't have noticed you when you left. You had made sure to stay out of his sight. He couldn't track you based on your vitality and you had made it so that you were barely a shadow hovering above the ground.

"You burned me." His voice wafted through your head, and he was upon you. Through the mist that had began to gather, he erupted from the shadows next to you, coat still ablaze at the charred tips and red hat removed. You took a careful step back. His angry eyes met yours and you felt terror sweep across your bones. "It's been a while since anyone has hurt me."

"I-Is that so?" You hated yourself for stumbling over your words.

He laughed humorlessly. "Don't get me wrong -- you won't do it ever again. I didn't much care for it."

One of the shadows that you hadn't quite noticed in time slithered beneath your foot, gripping halfway up your leg and flinging you effortlessly across the field. The shock that hit you was much harder than the tree that caused your upper body to erupt in agony. Wheezing upon impact, you used your elevated position to catch your footing, only to fall into the exact same trap. Once again, you were in the air, flying and unable to get a grip. You didn't want to use your magic, electing to save all of your internal resources to release the grandest plan of attack that you had in your arsenal. Allowed yourself to hit the icy terrain, you cringed as you slid across a frozen pond, praying that the ice didn't start to--

Crack. Criiiick.

"Fuck...!" You hissed, picking yourself up mid-slide to maintain your footing.

The shadows were there in an instant, Alucard's watchful pair of eyes in the centre of the darkness, surveying you and the pond he had tossed you toward. You were panting. One of your legs has been sliced open on a piece of jutted ice, and your previously injured ankle wasn't feeling great, either. If you let him swing at you like that again, you weren't entirely sure you'd be able to get up.

"Distracted, dragon priest?" The monster drawled. "You're usually too perceptive to be fooled. Or did you get too cocky?"

You brushed yourself off, shards of ice and bits of bark sticking to your clothes like wild burrs. Straightening yourself out, you met his gaze without a smile. "It was just a series of unfortunate events, really."

He nearly released a harsh guffaw at your response. Ever the colourful character, it was no wonder that you had drawn his attention over time. He had warmed up to your cold exterior. Having lived in such a frigid environment most of his life, it hadn't been hard.

"I can't wait to get my hands on you." He growled. "My teeth sinking into your pretty little neck, your nails digging into my shoulders, the ecstasy that will ripple through your body -- you'll crave me before long."

You didn't like the sureness in his voice. The resolve that ran through you was enough to keep you going though you weren't positive about winning. He had been slightly correct about your cockiness; you had absolutely been more sure of yourself in the beginning. It was rare to face off against someone stronger than one of your breed. There had been challenging opponents in your history, yes, but none of this calibre and certainly none that had wanted you as their mate. How far was he willing to go to make his dream come true?

"Your eyes are beautiful like that." He droned on, referring to your narrowed white orbs. "Red is more befitting of royalty, however."

"Is that what you think yourself to be?" You scoffed. "You are a being who lives alone in an old castle, stalking women who want nothing to do with you." You gestured toward a village that stood in the distance, compact and small. "They probably want nothing to do with you, too. You're isolated, with but one comrade who won't even warm your bed."

His eyes grew in size, rage clouding his mind. You had definitely hit a nerve. He understood that you were angry about your predicament, clearly not able to understand where he was coming from and how grand his offer truly was. He had come to terms with your temper tantrums while locked away in the castle depths and had dealt with them accordingly. He had hoped you would come around eventually. Moreover, he had dearly wished that this little game would bring out a new, purer side of you, that your swift defeat would finally make you accept your fate. All of his assumptions, thus far, had been erroneous. This was infuriated in itself. What made it worse was your infectiously aggregated behaviour that worked to attack every bit of his character and former insecurities. One of his biggest pet peeves was someone lesser than him prodding at old wounds. 

Though it had stung at one time, he no longer cared for inclusion with mortals or even beings of his own kind. He didn't desire a companion. He only had kept Seras because she was convenient and helpful in his few schemes. Besides, he had grown an attachment to the female vampire over the years, and they did share a blood connection. He couldn't very well dispose of or shun her. To allude that he wanted something he could not have was ludicrous and foul. As much as you didn't believe him to be royalty, he was. While ruling a kingdom as a human and as the ultimate and original creature of the night, he had been ruthless and cruel. He had driven countless away from him and had killed the rest, leaving him with no one in the end. No traitors, no friends, and careful lovers. This was the safest way to live.

"You know nothing." The voice that left his throat sounded ravenous. "One that was so foolishly deceived by my fledgling."

"I know you better than you know yourself." You countered rather boldly, though he did have a point. "Living as a captive gives one a very clear perspective of their captor. You're blind to your flaws, Dracula."

"Advice from a stripling." His voice had gotten louder, more feral, despite the laughter that emerged next and echoed across the fields. "I'm humbled."

It was now or never.

You charged at him like a stampede of horses, quick and brazen. It looked miscalculated and desperate. You could tell by the bloodthirsty look on his seldom aged face that he thought you had given up. He had likely sensed your exhaustion earlier and mistakenly thought that this meant you had used up the last of your resources. This was foolish, as a good, practiced mage could draw resources from anywhere within nature. All it took was time.

His shadows moved from beneath him as you had expected, ready to cling to you when you got just close enough. Before they could, you channeled a different sort of energy into your palms and push outward. At close range, this sort of attack would have killed a weaker being. Wind whipped out from your hands instantaneously and with the force of three category five hurricanes. The glorious part was that he hadn't been expecting this. He scrambled at the last second to evade the move, but failed. He was blown further than you had been thrown twice, but you weren't done yet. He hit three of your runes as he tried to catch his bearings, a sick grimace twisting its way across his face with every bit of agony. Magic burns from ice and fire were the worst, but they wouldn't kill him. As he had so gleefully mentioned earlier, he had evolved past the natural forces of this universe so that they, alone, could not do him in.

Soaring high in the sky, you tracked his trajectory and watched as he attempted to disperse into darkness before he hit the ground. You wouldn't allow that. You aimed and shot daggers of fire and ice at his body, disrupting his transformation and teleportation. One of the sharp pellets penetrated his shoulder, closer to his chest than he would have liked, while the fire merely burned him. Hissing but refusing to cry out, he adjusted his posture and stopped himself from landing. You were playing dirty, that was for sure. It was exciting, albeit undeniably complex and infuriating. In a manner of speaking, this was his fault; he had wanted a powerful, cunning, and mighty queen, after all. He would consider this the challenge of his lifetime. Even if he had to bring you to the brink of death, just to revive you as his, he would do so a thousand times over. 

You were worthy.

You belonged to him.

When the dust around him settled and while he waited for your next onslaught of abuse, he pondered what he would do to you when he got his fangs within you. There were so many options, some of them darker than others. You would be his possession. There would be no consent to be considered. He would be able to play with you and use you as he pleased. The hope was that you would one day grow to love him, though given that his victims were subjected to his mind-altering, manipulatory techniques, he wasn't worried about that not coming to fruition. His dark, sadistic tendencies were showing more than normal with you. Perhaps he was a monster, as everyone said.

His fangs glistened with saliva as he grinned. He would show you his primal nature.

The smoke from your rapid attack cleared finally. As suspected, you were gone. Still nearby, surely, but invisible to the his sight. You had taken it upon yourself to gain some headway. This may have been a ploy to recharge your abilities for your next encounter with him, or it was a sort of admittance of defeat. Maybe you realized that he was stronger than you, that you couldn't beat him as you were.

His eyes were glossy as he looked at the village further out. He was nearly positive that if he went looking for you this night, he would find you there. There were individuals there who could help you, but not enough to secure victory. This was an interesting addition to your little charade, to be sure. A small proportion of him wanted to disregard every particle of patience he had and charge toward the livelihood of this sector of Romania. The village was not known to many. This was because it was near to his lair and many kilometers out from actual civilization. The people living in its confines had either been born there or had traveled to be trained peacefully by monks who resided there. He bore a non-aggression treaty with the mayor that forbade him from attacking any any of the villagers and those within the village from plotting against him. However, what the civilians didn't know was that the mayor had allowed Alucard one mortal sacrifice per month, if he so desired. This had generally satiated his lust for fresh blood and kept his violent tendencies low.

He laughed hysterically into the night, then, not knowing what had come over him and no longer caring. You had proved to be the biggest hunt he had ever experienced. His heart was pounding against his chest at the potential you would have, once you accepted him as your master, and what a proud master he would be. Clutching his bleeding shoulder, he looked at the bright moon looming hauntingly above. 

"My little sheep," he said into the final bit of the evening, a section of his cape burning steadily from your remarkable tactical ability to control flames. "The hunt is on."

Your body hair stood up straight when his words reached you. As you tucked yourself away in between an aged brewery and a storage house, you felt his presence drifting back toward his castle. This wasn't a victory for you by any means, nor was this a time for you to lounge around. There had to be someone here or close by that could assist you in your generic yet exceptionally dire quest to slay the big, bad vampire.

You reverted your eyes back to their normal (e/c) hues, discharged the magic in your hands, and crept into the brewery, trying your best to smother the pain in your ankle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU to those who have given this work kudos, as well as those who have commented or bookmarked. I'm really excited to be able to write freely and express ideas unrelated to, like, my graduate thesis research :$ hahaha


	4. Chapter III: The Kindness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You ask for help. An unlikely few people come to your aid, showing you the greatest kindness you could ever have hoped for. Alucard can't stop thinking about breaking you.
> 
> A bit of a filler chapter; necessary for plot development.

Everyone stared at you as you entered the brewery. It was no wonder that this happened, the village quite small and its people close-knit. You tried to act as normal as you could. At the back of your mind, you hoped that at least one staff member here could speak English.

"Welcome, stranger."

'Oh, thank fuck.' You thought, content.

The man who greeted you looked like a cross between a cowboy and a slav, his big brown hat contrasting greatly with his grey tunic. He was bald and his face was friendly. You supposed he would have to be in a town that didn't see much traffic; business wouldn't be as good with a grouchy bartender running things.

"Thanks." You smiled. "Can I grab a drink? Cold out there. Need something warm."

He nodded knowingly. "Wind's strong tonight. How about a hot chocolate?"

You agreed to the proposal, not knowing the last time you had the beverage. Perhaps it had been months before now, with your comrades.

The bar bore more people than you had expected, as well as a diverse bunch of faces. There were men who appeared to be monks, with long, white and blue robes, and women who looked like they had been through hell and back. Some were mere villagers, which could be denoted by their casual wear and dismissive attitudes whilst speaking the land's native tongue. Others seemed to be travelers, big jackets tucked over their chairs as they enjoyed the grand fire that blazed wildly on the right side of the room. You glanced at the clock. It was five twenty-nine in the morning. What we're all of these people doing awake?

"Here you are." The bartender placed the drink on the counter. You hadn't even moved from the doorway, but this was your cue.

You walked to one of the stool, pulling it out, and plopped down. There were only a few other people at the counter alongside you, though they seemed to be mining their own business. Since your entry, the excitement of a newcomer had dulled and the brewery had resumed its maximum volume. You felt more comfortable now that most of the attention had drifted from you. You still felt eyes burning into the back of your head, however.

"Thanks." You repeated, taking a sip.

"Just get into town?" Ah, light interrogation.

"Actually, I just got back from that castle."

The room went quiet again. Their attention had been baited, for better or for worse. The look on the bartender's face was curious and not yet hostile, but you felt like you had better watch yourself going forward.

"Is that so?" A man down the counter inquired.

"You came back from the castle...?" Someone behind you asked, more to themselves than you.

"She's got to be lying." A woman with a rough Romanian accent whispered. 

The bartender merely gazed at you, an unreadable expression on his face. He regarded your outfit, which made you look lesser than what you were, and your form. It wasn't a sexualized manner of looking; it was more of an evaluation that would likely be based on what he said next. He turned his back to you, filling up a tall glass with what appeared to be some sort of pale ale.

"Not many return from there." He said absently.

"Not many...?" A nervous voice to the left of you. "More like no one..."

You weren't sure what to say. Everyone seemed to know who Alucard was, and even if they may not have known what he was they were still nervous of him. You wondered if there had been an incident since he had taken up residence nearby. Perhaps they were simply weary of his mysterious demeanour.

"Why's that?" You asked, for lack of a better question.

The bartender turned to you, face looking as though it had been carved from stone. His dark skin was paler than before and his skin was perspiring. "Something's not right about that place."

They were dancing around the topic, which made sense. They didn't owe you anything and they certainly didn't trust you, especially since you had just admitted to coming back from that cursed castle. They probably thought that you were a monster, like him; that notion wasn't completely inaccurate. However, if that was how they viewed you, you would have to be careful about revealing your identity. Dragon priests didn't have a spotless track sheet, after all. Most of you had grown peaceful and solitary since the fall of the dragons, but some of you had remained greedy, sour beings. There had been one which your father had known, Hevnoraak, who had manipulated people into following under his cruel reign, torturing them into submission if they had dared to stray. Many knew of him through legend. Some mortals even told their children to beware of his resurrection, as a way to keep them in line.

Yes, you would have to gain the townsfolk's trust. You couldn't reveal too much too soon but you didn't want to outright lie, either. You turned around on your stool to face the people behind you. A few eyes darted away, but most maintained contact.

"Can anyone tell me anything about that place?" You tried, hoping they were the loose-lipped type. This was more of an ice-breaker, to see how far you could go before they fought against your curious mind, to see what sort of initial answers you could get.

This was clear bait. Would anyone bite?

"Depends. How much ya got?" A man in the corner attempted to barter. Unfortunately for him, you had nothing to offer. Your wallet had been discarded upon your capture.

"Who do you think you are?" A native to the continent snapped, thick accent causing spittle to fly from his mouth. "We don't even know you! We will not tell you our secrets."

This was useful information, nevertheless, as it told you that there was, indeed, a secret regarding this small village and Alucard. You could confirm that they were aware of him for sure, now. Someone here, perhaps all of them or maybe just a handful of them, had to have encountered him. You weren't sure you wanted to know what sort of fright he had inflicted upon them, the cruel, violent beast that he was.

"If you came back from there alive..." A woman in robes shuddered, fear on her small face. "...you're not of this world."

You raised your hands in the air to show that you meant no harm, that you were surrendering to their inquiries. Some of them tensed at your swift motion. They weren't the most trusting bunch -- what happened to them?

"Listen, my name is (f/n) (l/n). I'm a mage." Good start, good start. "I blindly trusted a colleague I shouldn't have, who told me that there was an ancient spell tome in the depths of that castle."

You took a sip of your hot chocolate. "There wasn't a spell tome waiting for me. There was some sort of monster. I don't understand what that was. A vampire, I think. I've never seen one before."

They were buying it. You would continue this charade for as long as you had to; you just needed to remember all of the details correctly. You stood up from your stool and grimaced, allowing your wound to take almost all of your weight. There was no use in hiding it now, when it could be used to your advantage.

"I'm injured." You breathed. It felt nice to admit it, nice to admit that you didn't always have to appear strong. "I only escaped because he wants me to take part in his game of cat and mouse."

"And you came in here!?" One of the men at the back of the brewery shouted, outraged at your actions which he had deemed as careless.

You shrugged. "Only to find help."

The people didn't seem to like your disregard for their lives. You could admit, it had been a risky move. While you had felt him retreat, you 

"He could wipe out our entire village with, like, a finger."

"I can't believe you came here...!"

"This is why I fucking hate mages."

Rolling your eyes are the disdainful remarks, you held up your wrist, which still had the suppression bracelet locked securely around it. So far, Alucard had kept his word about deactivating it. This was because you were following his rules, of course. You wanted to move out of Romania, though, out of the land where he constantly had an advantage. You had never before heard of a bracelet with the ability to stifle magic use and deplete energy, so you had no way to figure it out. If you could find someone who had an inkling of how to remove or completely deactivate it, you would be free to roam and make your grand escape from the ancient vampire. You could find other dragon priests, or even just beings who could assist you in his destruction. Now that the hunt had begun and you could see that he was absolutely devoted to making you his, you knew that this would only end if he turned you or if you killed him.

But you needed help. After seeing only a portion of his potential and comprehending that he would likely never allow you to deceive him again, you knew that you couldn't face him alone and hope to prevail. There were vampire hunters out there, people who were specialized to deal with his kind. There weren't many vampires left -- not as many as there had been centuries ago. There were some within the general population that denied their existence, even. If you could prove that he was a threat to the public, maybe you could gather a team of just the right misfits.

Or perhaps you would crash and burn. Perhaps no one would be willing to help you, and you would have to do this on your own. Who knew what fate held in its cards for you?

"I don't know what this contraption is," you announced. "But I need to take it off."

The bartender nodded in acknowledgement. He had been solemn throughout this entire ordeal. You were grateful for this. He walked around the bar and placed a careful hand on your shoulder. Squeezing it gently, he smiled.

"I know somebody who might know a thing or two about stuff like that, but after I tell you and you finish your drink, I need you to leave. Don't even stay the night here. I don't care how tired you are." His smile was not deceiving. He was telling you these things to protect himself and his people, yes, but also to protect you. He knew that you would need to travel during hours when the sun was up. It would be a waste of precious time for you to sit around in this small village, where Dracula could emerge to claim you. There would be casualties if you didn't come quietly, then. It was best to sleep away from civilization. Granted, you were far more vulnerable on your own. You weren't sure, but you suspected that the bracelet doubled as a way to track your whereabouts. You would be a sitting duck until it was gone. There was still much you didn't know about the monster trailing you, things that authors and mages had written about that you had never gotten to confirm with him.

You smiled in return, eager to start the journey. "Deal."

He released you and moved toward the door, ushering for you to follow. Angry faces gazed at you as you walked but you paid them little heed. It wasn't fruitful for you to get caught up in any drama; they couldn't understand what you were running from in their selfish state of mind. Your beacon of hope pointed to the mountains West of the town.

"Move toward the border of Romania and Hungary. The man I know is in Arad."

"That's in Romania?" You hoped.

He nodded. "It takes about a week to walk. There's a horseman that might take you more than halfway, though. The man who drives it will take you anywhere and under any circumstances for the right cash."

You didn't like the sound of that. You would have to find a way to scrounge up the money, dicker with him, or make the walk yourself. Chances were, you would have to walk. Flying would be quicker but it would be a waste of energy. Still, moving on your own saved you the trouble of involving an innocent civilian in your affairs.

"Okay." You confirmed. It was worth a shot to talk to the horseman, anyway. "I'll head over now. Do a have a name for me?"

"For the man in Arad? Christoph. Just ask around; the people will know where to locate him."

You had the distinct feeling that Christoph was a mage. Townsfolk were often well aware of who controlled arcane magic around them, as many mages made their services available for public use. Moreover, if this bartender was recommending his assistance, it wasn't likely that he would harm you. You had a good feeling about this. If you could make it to the mysterious man in one piece, you might just have a shot at freedom, again. 

You wondered how such a man had settled in a small village like this. Had he been born here or had he migrated here to start a brewery? You supposed he had traveled here years ago and found some sort of charm to the place. He had no accent and it didn't sound like he spoke the language regularly. There was something mysterious yet oh so magical about him. There wasn't a terrible bone in his body. A few character flaws, sure, but everyone had at least one negative quality. He was a good person. You felt the urge to understand his story.

"Not a problem, stranger... Or should I say (f/n)." More evidence of his purity was his refusal to disregard you as a nuisance, to put a name to your existence and then extend his own. "The name's Youssef. If you manage to ditch the creep, come on back and I'll treat you to another hot chocolate. Well, if you can stomach coming all the way back here, that is."

'What a cool fucking guy.' You couldn't help but think.

"Well, now I feel obligated to." You joked. It was nice to chuckle again. Whoever this Youssef fellow was, he had gifted you with joy this early morning. You couldn't thank him enough, just for this non-verbal allowance to feel alive and unbridled again. "I'll see you around."

As the sun peaked over the luscious mountains of the Carpathians, you turned your back on the bar and your beacon, heading toward the edge of town. The stables were over that way. You would see what you could do about transportation.

\----------

He didn't really need sleep and the sun didn't much bother him. These had been lies fabricated by those who had known him centuries prior, when he had been far weaker than now.

Having no master to rule over him and finally able to realign himself personal aspirations, Alucard had been fortunate enough to expand his strength in recent years. Already a feared being, he was now utterly horrifying. The sun did weaken him to a small degree, however, and it was nice to rest his eyes on rare occasions, particularly when there was a cold, nude, used body next to him. It had been so long.

He had almost had you tonight, but you had pulled such a deliciously infuriating move out of your pocket just in the nick of time. Cunning and beautiful -- a deadly combination that he was becoming addicted to. He wished he could enter your mind as effortlessly as he could with mortals and others of his kind. He had seldom experienced such a thing, but you had created mental barriers that halted him from manipulating or reading your thoughts. The few times in the past that this issue had arisen, it had been with mages; he supposed it made sense. He pondered, every few minutes, what you were contemplating right then. Did you have a plan? Where were you going to go? You were a wanderlust at heart; you wouldn't stay in the village. If you revealed yourself to any of the particularly nosy residents there, they would flap their lips loud enough for the news to reach him. He would give you a few hours before penetrating into one of their minds. A game was no fun if he didn't enable at least one handicap, after all. The bracelet that he had locked onto your wrist also served to track you, but he had sworn off of using it for the same reason. He wanted to give you enough respect to make things a little more fair. You were strong enough to hurt him, after all. Had he caught you after that little stunt, he would have forced you to clean and wrap his wounds, tending to each of his wants and needs throughout the night.

He was growing impatient so early in the chase. For all those around you, this was a bad sign. This meant that he had already claimed you in his head. If he found anyone a little too close to you when he finally happened across your location, he would kill them. No one was allowed to interfere and assist you, let alone be a near to you. It wasn't right. It was practically cheating, in all manners of the word. Of course, he would be more lenient toward you than your colleague. You had to be spared, after all, and he didn't yet want to be too rough with you. You could take his aggression, he was sure; you had already proved this fact during your time in his dungeon. The things he had inflicted upon you in there... he had been shocked that you had been able to run so quickly at the start of the hunt. Your powers, too -- you had used them so effortlessly, as if you had been continually harvesting the energy put into casting for weeks prior. Talk about a genius mage.

Perfect, perfect, perfect. That was what you were. Even your flaws, which he had at one time noticed well, were turning into mere dismissive blemishes. There was no longer any part of you that he disliked. Was it because he had spent the past few weeks tending to you, bending you and molding you in his hands to create the perfect bride? Perhaps you were his soulmate. He would have laughed at such a thought about a century ago but now it seemed far more plausible. He didn't want to dwell on his newfound feelings. He had spent many decades ruminating on past mistakes and anticipating future ones. He had learned to live in the moment. Seras had helped to teach him this. Even with regrets in her mortal life and past wounds still begging to be licked, she had persevered and flourished as his fledgling. It had been admirable enough for him to follow suit. He would never admit this to her, though.

Alucard stepped over to his nightstand, picking up his handgun, the Hellsing Arms. It was still one of the best guns he had ever used, despite having poor memories of the earlier members of the Hellsing family. It had been Abraham van Helsing who had captured him, keen on keeping him locked away until he found a way to "tame" him. The foolish man had truly believed that a vampire could be completely tamed. He had played Helsing's game for decades, doing their bidding and obeying the family's wishes even when it did not suit him. The rise of the Hellsing organization for the sake of wiping out any supernatural beings that posed as threats to humanity had left him feeling rather unsavory at first. Being used as a weapon against creatures much like himself, those who preferred moonlight to the wretched rays of the sun, was infuriating... that is, until he grew to see himself differently over time.

He had grown stronger over the years. When he had first been defeated by Abraham, he had only held a fraction of the strength he did now, and even during his time with Sir Integra van Hellsing. His strength increased as he killed and absorbed the blood of human casualties. Even despite the blood, it would have increased, for he was the original and he had been around for centuries by then. He had learned of ways to hone his powers during missions and in confinement. It was only a matter of time before he broke Abraham's silly little seal.

When Sir Integra had finally died, she had been so far gone that she had set him free of his bond to her family. This did away with his plans to break the family seal and unleash himself at full force to his captor's ancestor. He swore, at that moment, that would never allow himself to be detained by a being lesser than him again, in any manner. Instead, he would be the jailor to all those he willed beneath him. He would be the master once again.

Placing the old treasure into its holster, he allowed himself to think of how much fun it would be to hunt you down with it. There would be blood -- so much blood. He would be drenched in it as he shot you in non-vital areas, slowing you down until you collapsed and could no longer go on. You would be on the brink of death and he would revive you. You would become one of the undead, no longer a dragon priest, by nature. Perhaps you would be the first of your kind to be turned. He wondered what it would feel like, what your blood would taste like by the gallon, and what sort of abilities you would gain.

How could you not be curious? How could you not want the aspects of an ancient vampire, one of the most powerful beings this world has ever seen? With your magical prowess and newly acquired immortality, among other things, you could be unstoppable. Yet, you could never harm him. He would be your master, which you would obey regardless of past instinct. You would struggle with this at first. He would have to lock you up again, though this time he would be able to afford a bit more violence. In the end, he would finally make you understand. He was obsessed with making you understand. He wanted you to accept him. That was the only option.

He sat down at the table nearest to the window, drawing the drapes closed as the sun rose over the fields and forests that dotted the land. Picking up a large green book, he opened it to page one hundred. The title on the front read Dragon Priests and Dwemer Technology. He had learned how to use the bracelet from the research outlined in this book, but since getting his hands on you he had put it down before its climax. He had figured that he wouldn't need it so long as he had you, though that had been when he had been hopeful of your eventual cooperation. He wanted to learn more about what you were and what you had been raised to be. He already knew of your father and the legends surrounding the priests, but legends weren't necessarily facts.

He would bide his time, quelling his addiction with knowledge while you made your way to wherever it was you were headed. He would give this daylight head start before he came after you once more. He might bring you back with him this time, if you weren't careful. He grinned at that, glancing at his large mattress. He no longer cared to sleep in a coffin, particularly not if he was to have a mate. You would be there with him soon. Maybe then he would be more inclined to waste the days away in bed, arms secured around your waist, fangs deep within your neck, and bodies entwined in an intense sort of pleasure that you would learn to crave.

\----------

The stables were tiny and desolate. Even in the darkness, you could tell as much. You weren't surprised; it was far too early for anyone to be awake and standing guard over the horses, awaiting any passenger who happened along. You noticed that there was a barn just over the hill, to which you heard soft bleating and grunting. This was likely the only source of dairy and wool for the entire village, lest they had a transporter than came with goods from the government every other week. You had heard that some places did that, though you highly doubted that anyone would dare to come here.

There were a few candles lit in the windows of the house, just beyond the stable. You wondered if you should wait a little before knocking; the residents could be sleeping. That said, it seemed as though no one slept at night here. This was more evidence that they were cognizant of the threat that loomed in the archaic, forgotten ruins of the castle. Before you could make the decision for yourself, the door of the home swung open. A man with a pitchfork, of all things, stood there gazing out at you. You couldn't make out any details of his face, but you assumed that he was weary of your presence.

"I'm looking to hitch a ride." You called out, raising your hands in the air just as you had in the brewery, labeling yourself as defenseless.

The man trotted down the steps, pitchfork lowered but still handy in case he needed to use it. He was heftier than you had assumed, panting and puffing as he made his way toward you. Once he got closer, you got a better look at him. He was a little shorter than you and his bald head shone with a thin layer of sweat. He wore a long-sleeved jacket that looked to be made of processed wool accompanied by dark pants that looked far warmer than the entirety of your outfit. There was a hat stuffed into his pocket, gloves peaking out of another. He looked well prepared for the weather of this land.

"Da, da. Vhere to?" He was lively for seven o'clock in the morning.

"Arad, just near--"

"Da, I know vhere is." He interrupted, waving a careless hand your way. "I 'ave two horse. I take you almost dere. How much you 'ave?"

"Well, actually, I have nothing. I lost my wallet when Dracula was chasing me." It sounded like a joke, but it was the truth. At least, as much of the truth as you felt comfortable admitting.

The man didn't seem as shocked as the other townspeople when you had told them of your plight. His face remained the same, though he did role his eyes.

"You tell me you 'ave nothing and un vampir is chase you?" Well, now that he said it like that, it sounded more ridiculous. "I wud no do, even for one handjob."

It was your turn to act surprised. When did you mention that you would be willing to do sexual favours for a horse ride? Your lips flapped a few times, no words emerging. There was no telling what this man was going to say next.

"Nyet," he corrected himself. "No even for two handjob."

"Wait, hold on a second. No one mentioned anything about handjobs." You hissed. "Youssef sent me because he thought you could help me out."

"Da, help out. Nyet, help out if no pay."

That settled it. Just as you had suspected, you would have to make the trip on foot... or via air. Either way, it was going to be tedious and you would be left by yourself to navigate Romanian soil. You didn't argue with the sick man any further. It was clear that your circumstances had him weary for his life, which you thought was very fair. Like the rest of this village's residents, he would turn his back on you, as well.

"Don't worry about it." You said simply, only a small bit of hostility in your tone. "Can you at least tell me how to get there?"

He tilted his head to the side. "You go visit Dornez?"

"Christoph." You supposed that Dornez was his last name, lest the man would have corrected you. If that was the case, then you pondered whether he had any relations with Walter C. Dornez of the former Hellsing organization; this connection would certainly make sense.

"Da, okay. You follow path. Path turn to tree, then path turn back to path." You nodded, following along. The path disappeared until you made it out of what you assumed would be thick woodland. "Path will turn to tree two more. Then, Arad. You want map?"

"That would be great."

He scuttled up the steps and back into his home and grabbed something off of a nearby surface. "I give map."

Taking the faded piece of paper and slipping it into your pocket, you thanked him again.

"You need boot? I give boot." He returned with a pair of boots. They were men's size, probably his own. It was then that you realized he was still doing what he could for you. It was reasonable for him to not want to put his life on the line and waste his time to ensure your travels were well-directed and safe. This was the least he could spare, and you greatly appreciated his efforts. Though quirky, this odd man with a thick Russian accent seemed to have a heart.

You slipped your cold feet into the boots, which were warm and quite loose. The man came from his house twice more with a jacket and a backpack full of food, about two day's worth. There were matches in the bag, as well as a small knife. You would have to use these items at some point during your travels, you guessed. There were ways you could protect yourself using magic, but you also had to be ready on a moment's notice to face your adversary. Before accepting these items, you confirmed with him that he wouldn't miss anything he was giving you, to which he shot you a dirty look, offended.

"You return me next time." He snapped. Now you had two reasons to return to Romania. "Now go. Go, go, go. No waste time."

You thanked him profusely for everything he had given you, including the directions, before heading off where he had indicated. He stood on his porch for a few moments, staring at your silhouette disappear twice over the towering mountains before exhaling mournfully and heading inside to bed. The sun would be shining brightly in the sky within the next half hour and he was exhausted. At the back of his mind, he wondered if the vampire would visit him when the sun fell from the sky this night. Perchance he would just so happen to be the next villager to disappear, or maybe he would be spared due to his profession. He was the only man with a stable in town. Then again, he had seen the owner of the local grocery disappear, only to be replaced by his sister. Everyone was expendable to some degree.

These were the thoughts that lulled him to an unquiet rest. He wished you well, truly, but he knew in the depths of his heart that you wouldn't escape. The being who lived in that castle had been around for too long to be deceived. His ancient wrath would rain down upon you.

"Da pomozhet nam Bo (May God help us all)."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to give one final warning that things are going to start getting very dark from here. Like, I'm talking about stuff that could be potentially triggering to some of you (see active warnings). If you're okay with this, read on; I'm happy to have you! If you aren't, take care of yourself first and turn back.
> 
> Thank you very much to those who have been following along thus far! I'm in love with writing this story.


	5. Chapter IV: The Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Even your dreams are attacking you!  
> You gain what you perceive to be an adequate amount of headway from Alucard... Until he catches up to you with god-like speed and strength. A bargain is forced upon you, and you find the whole ordeal to be exceptionally torturous.

Gloved hands entangled in your (h/c) locks, twisting at the strands and yanking at the exact moment when your tongue had just about overpowered his. His fang sunk itself into a shallow place on your lower lip, causing you to hiss and allow him deeper into your mouth. He was completely nude, as were you. Your body was exposed for his pleasure, which he instantaneously indulged in, moving his digits across your warm body. It traveled to your mounds, his other arm maneuvering you onto your back beneath him. Yes, this was where you belonged. This was his confirmation that it had all been right, that everything he had gone through for you had meant something. He grinned possessively against the front of your neck. He wouldn't allow himself a drink of your blood -- not yet. He wanted the first bite to be special, for you to beg him to taste you. He would show you what you made him feel with each and every touch, slowly intoxicating you much like you had enthralled him. 

Your soft voice moaned his name, careful not to raise above a whisper. Despite the emptiness of the castle, it was as if you were nervous that someone would hear you. There was no one to condemn you for the choices you were making, here. You were free to do as you pleased without judgement... at least, with his blessing, anyway. You knew who you belonged to at this point. You were only alive because he willed you to be. If he had wanted you to perish, you would have been killed alongside your comrades. You ought to be grateful to him. If you weren't already, you would be with time. He had chosen you, out of all the beings in the world. Weren't you fortunate?

A gasp left your lips when he clamped down on your breast, leaving light puncture marks and no crimson fluid. This way there was no temptation for him to jump the gun. One hand mimicked the evil deeds his mouth was conducting while the other caressed your wrist. It was a loving gesture, one that you would only see when he was in the rare mood to induce more pleasure than pain. His lower half meshed with yours. He wasn't quite ready to enter you, though your whimpers were rather inviting. He wanted you to ask for it.

"My bride," he growled, knowing the pet name would ring true within the next half hour. "Tell your master what you want."

\----------

You were ripped from your steamy dream, thankfully, before you could respond to his demand. The hay around your body poked through your clothing, making your makeshift bed an unpleasant way to wake up. There was a light dusting of snow covering your body, from the holes littered across the walls and ceiling of the abandoned barn. The sun was still dimly lit in the sky, sitting snug behind clouds of grey and snow squalls. Miraculously, you hadn't turned into an ice block in the hour and a half you had been asleep.

Smacking your lips together and rubbing your groggy eyes, you remembered why you hated waking up prematurely. Your body felt heavy and clogged. Your heart was pounding like a racehorse. You just wanted to sleep and disregard everything else. If only you could have afforded such an elusive luxury.

Getting to your feet, you brushed yourself of snow and hay, giving your backpack a little shake as well. The blanket you had found in the depths of your bag was repacked swiftly, and you braced yourself for what was ahead. You couldn't recall the last time it had been necessary to skimp on sleep. Letting the cool air hit your face as you flew from the barn, you inhaled deeply and closed your eyes. Spinning in the air ever-upward, you adored how the wind hit your hair and blew it in several different directions. It gave you a lewd illusion of freedom, one that it seemed you could not even fantasize about during rest.

That dream was quite a familiar one at this point. Ever since he had abducted you, your mind had forced you to replay it like a ritual. It always felt like reality and you could never forcefully awaken yourself from the terror. The best and most you could do was ignore them and choose not to dwell on their content. You didn't care to psycho-analyze yourself and your dreams; you would leave these matters to the likes of Carl Jung.

As you flew above the trees, all you could see were mountains upon mountains. Pine trees were as far as the eye could see, animals dotting few and far between them. So far, you had encountered a bear roaming around with its cubs and no other living creatures. Electing to hover most of the way, however, you would likely not encounter much more. You looked to the sky. It was about three thirty in the afternoon, which meant only about two hours until the sun set. There was no telling what nightfall would bring. So far, you hadn't run into Alucard, save for your dreams. There was a good chance that the myth about vampires detesting sunlight was true. If that was the case, then you would have no choice but to stay alert during the evening. You hoped to reach the first bit of thick forest in about a half hour. You would land then, hiking through the bush as carefully as possible until the sun rose again. Of course, it wouldn't matter how stealthy you were if the bracelet really was designed to lead him to your location. Your mind trailed to the knife in your backpack.

Or would it?

Another option was for you to amputate part of your arm to rid yourself of the contraption. This was the most extreme choice, but it might end up being your only way to salvation. If no one could remove it or if Alucard caught up to you, you might be forced to mutilate yourself. A shiver crept down your spine at the thought. Would you be able to do it? You talked a big game now, but what about when you were really in that situation, in the heat of the moment? Maybe magic would be quicker. You could focus all of it to that limb and blow it clear off in one go; there would be less room for error. Yes, magic was probably the best choice. The knife could be used as a secret weapon.

You yawned, the snow turning into ice pellets as freezing rain spat down on you. The weather changes were brutal here, so much so that you might be forced to land before reaching the woods.

"Goddamn," you snarled, a piece of hard water hitting you in the eyelid. You would stick this out for a little longer before retreating. You couldn't afford the frostbite that this would surely give you. Something else you couldn't afford was drawing any sort of light toward yourself. Since witnessing Alucard's ability to manipulate the shadows, you had a feeling that he could use darkness to hone in on light. If you lit a match or used a clairvoyance spell, you could be calling him straight to you with a stunt like that. In your gut, you knew that once the moon was out he would be able to find you quicker than you could fathom. At the very least, you had a good four hours after sundown to gain some serious mileage.

As you neared the thick woods ahead and the weather perfected itself to a full blown ice storm, you landed just above the surface of the snow and scurried in through the brushes. The less of an imprint you left, the better your chances. The sun was setting gently in the distance when you casted the spell that would hide your traces of life. You did yourself an additional favor and cast a spell that allowed you a sort of night vision. Armed to the teeth, or so you believed.

You had no idea what was to come.

\----------

Alucard had fantasized about you more than any other person, he realized as he adjusted his collar and slipped on his sunglasses. Dusting off his black pants and adorning his red overcoat, his dark locks dangled in an unkempt manner in front of his face. He had decided to bathe before racing after you, sure that you would thank him once he caught up to you and showed you just how passionate he could be. Personal hygiene was exceptionally important to a man of his status, particularly when it came to utilizing his lustful charm. Though naturally charismatic and youthful, he knew that it took more than smooth talking and beauty to win another's heart. It took effort in the form of small gifts and graces, attention just below the margin of obsessive, and showing them that you were thinking of them. He had no doubt that despite your difference from the others, you could be wooed in similar ways. He continued to reassure himself that the mental control he would have over you would work well in his favor, in this sense. You would be putty in his hand. It may take weeks, months, and years, but your mind would break eventually, and when it did he would be there to confiscate the pieces.

Tonight, he told himself, you would begin your rigorous transition from your closed-hearted disgust with him to craving his eternal lust and fixation. All he had to do was find you. He had several hours from now until the sun rose again. He would give you the graceful hours of the day to escape again, if needed, but he would not let this little game go beyond three days. His patience grew thinner and thinner. If he made you bleed in battle, it would deplete completely and he would do damn near anything to have you immediately. This included manipulating the rules he had set down for himself, such as keeping the bracelet deactivated. If the bloodlust hit him and the stench of your fluids hit his nose, he wasn't sure what he would be willing to do. This would make it more difficult to earn your trust and have you open your heart to him later.

This would be... tricky.

He left the castle in a hurry, then, not willing to meditate on it. His first stop was the village; namely, a little brewery on the southwestern side. He had heard that you could get a damn good hot chocolate there.

A sadistic grin slithered across his lips, his eyes burning with a strong desire to maim. There was a man there who had something coming to him, a man who had helped you escape from his view. The man had been quite kind, offering you solace and causing a deviation in your thought process, which had formerly consisted only of him. This was unforgivable, truly. The man, once milked of any information he had, would be killed; there was no mercy to be afforded. He would show the townsfolk the sort of beast the moonlight shadows concealed.

When he arrived at the bar, none but the man of the hour was present. He was in the back, washing potatoes, when he heard the front door of his establishment burst open. Convinced it had to have been the wind, the poor fool slammed and locked the door tight before turning to face his demise. Alucard had been ready for him, thirsty eyes boring into his with a psychotic expression that told Youssef all he needed to know about his offender. He didn't know why he hadn't been expecting such a visit, well aware of the monster that lived in the castle and the agreement the village had with it. The beast always got what he wanted, and Youssef had stood in the way of that by aiding your escape. Why hadn't he anticipated his death after pulling a stunt like that? Ever a lover and seldom a fighter, the mortal bartender knew that there was no hope of his survival beyond these last few moments in the business he had cultivated for countless years. At least there was that -- he would die in the place he felt most at ease, knowing he did the correct thing for a stranger in need.

He had no family, though he would surely be missed by the community. He would think of them on his last breath. In the meantime, he kept a taciturn face and continued breathing. The dark corners of the room felt as though they were alive, waiting to pounce and suffocate him. The being before him commanded a sort of unspoken respect with his dominating aura. If Youssef hadn't known before, he knew now; this thing was fucking evil.

"So you've come." He said in a measured tone, barely able to stand the silence that ensued.

At once, Alucard moved into the candlelight, revealing himself to his victim. He removed his sunglasses and placed them in his pocket, allowing for a better view of the scene about to play out. "Hmm, you've been expecting me, mortal? This means you know what I'm here for." He chuckled briefly and humorlessly. "Excellent!"

Youssef gulped, forehead drenched in cold sweat. "I sent her away from here. She is a mortal and she is inherently good. You'd have to be blind not to see it. I won't tell you where or why I sent her."

"I don't want to know why." The vampire shrugged. "I wanted to know where, and you've already told me that much."

Youssef bit his lower lip. Of course he had read his thoughts. People had warmed him of this ability. The scariest part about it was that Youssef hadn't even had an inkling that he was probing around within him. He was even more frightening than the research had depicted.

Through his terror, Youssef still had the fall to pop a cigarette out of his pocket and place it between his lips. If he was going to die, he would die with one last puff burning his throat. "Tell me," he started. "What is she to you?"

"To me?" Alucard mused. "To a monster like me, you weak little human?"

"No," Youssef caught the stutter that nearly emerged from his throat as he searched his person for a light. "An enigma. An undead being, someone who shrouds themselves away from others. A vampire, they call you. Tell me, what is she to you?"

This human was smart, that was for sure. Alucard enjoyed intelligent creatures; they made for tastier meals. He absorbed some of their knowledge through their blood, which made them more wholesome to consume than the average person. He looked the man up and down, analyzing him. He seemed to know quite a bit about his existence. Perhaps this mortal had dedicated a period of his life to studying vampirism. More likely, he had moved to this small village to keep a closer eye on the supposed danger that loomed on beyond the hills. There were stories told in small hovels and bars throughout grimy regions of Europe about his presence somewhere in Romania. Some of these rumors had sprouted from former members of Hellsing running their mouths for whoever would buy them a beer. Other rumors emerged from the journals of the late Jonathan Harker, one of his initial adversaries which Bram Stoker had based his grossly inaccurate novel on. Abraham van Helsing had kept his mouth firmly shut on the topic of vampires until he helped found the Hellsing organization with his son, Arthur; then, additional rumors of Dracula had emerged.

The barkeeper could have felt obligated to move out here, thinking he could caution visitors to stay away from his castle tucked just beyond the slopes of this land. Though, what if former members of Hellsing had sent him? Last he had heard, some of the survivors' children wanted revenge on him for the deaths of those who had gotten caught in the crossfire during several pointless battles against the anti-Semitic organization, Millennium. During the final battle against them, he had absorbed the blood of all the recently deceased on the field, including many members and associates of Hellsing and the Vatican. This had been a power move, as his prior fight with the Iscariot priest, Alexander Anderson, had left him drained and tattered. If he hadn't done it, Millennium would have prevailed and taken over most of the Earth's continents by force.

He admitted, he had been particularly brutal during that time, possibly taking the lives of people fighting alongside him without care. Though, everyone on that battlefield had known what horrors could await them, and they still chose to engage with the enemy. Some of their relations failed to see things in this sense, finding it easier to feed into the lore surrounding his existence in a frivolous attempt to blame him for the carnage.

It had been decades ago, in the 1960s, but grudges, he knew, were timeless. The man before him could be one of the ones who refused to put the death of a loved one to rest.

The man had a hint of a Romanian accent, but he wasn't from here. He had migrated here rather recently, perhaps in the last fifteen or twenty years. Alucard's eyes narrowed, using his mind control techniques to penetrate the man's most private thoughts. 

Youssef, was his name. Youssef Sauer. His mother was from Bangladesh and his late father had been German. No trace of Romanian roots, though he had appeared the master the language wonderfully. Alucard had been correct in assuming his intelligence was high. He dug deeper, gleefully accounting for one memory of you. It seemed as though this man had nothing to do with Hellsing...

Wait.

A man in Arad. Him and Youssef shaking hands. The man's last name tattooed on his forearm as he waves Youssef off: Dornez. 

The ageless being smirked. One of his former comrades had shared that surname. It was a common name, granted, but the serendipity was peculiar enough to arouse his suspicions. Alas, he would have to save his investigation of Hellsing for another time. He would kill Youssef as fast as he could, antsy to find you again. No enemy was as important as his beautiful bride, after all. You were his number one priority until you finally conceded.

'And make no mistake, priest,' he thought cruelly, though you could not hear him. 'You will concede to me.'

"What is she to me...?" He asked rhetorically. 

The ancient vampire paced back and forth across the length of the small room twice, taking care to choose the most accurate words for this intriguing human. He wasn't a mere plague rat that he could swat away with the simplest of words. No -- he deserved some level of respect before he died, for his brilliance and his mysterious connection to Dornez in Arad.

"When you are given an opportunity to become even greater than you are," Alucard started, licking his lips as the scent of fright wafted into his nostrils. "Do you chase this opportunity and face its impending challenges, or do you bear your fangs and turn away?"

You would be a wonderful advantage to him and his eternal existence in every sense of the term. You would be immune to aging, like him, and he would only need to shape you into an obedient bride. You already had the wit and many of the skills it took to be powerful. By his side and at his disposal, you could be a deadly weapon. People, perhaps even demons or other beings, would come for him at one point in his lifetime, intent on ending him. They would be blindsided by the strength you possessed, as a fallen dragon priest. If the legends had believed the priests of old to be terrifying before, the new legends that would emerge from your impending onslaught would be nauseating and ghastly. The vampire had to stop himself from drooling at the mere thought of it all. For once, he couldn't wait for the years to tick by.

"Answer, barkeep." He prompted the doomed male.

"It depends," Youssef replied quicker than anticipated. "If the opportunity entails hurting someone else -- someone good -- then I'm not so sure I would take it."

He was trying to get through to the beast, in his way. They always tried to. The smarter humans always thought they could change even the most bloodthirsty of beasts with words. Did they not believe in aggression, in hurting those that needed to be hurt for the true reality of their situation to sink in? And what, then, would they expect, after slaying their adversary? Were they so blinded by their own sense of self that they had deluded themselves into thinking the evil of the world would wither and rot?

Maybe they weren't so intelligent after all.

In the blink of an eye, Alucard grasped Youssef by the neck and slammed him against the wall, sending two photos crashing to the floor. The face of a small child looked up at the scene before her, helpless within her shattered frame, as her older brother was eyed like meat at a butcher's shop. The man in red sunk his teeth into the exposed portion of his prey's neck, drinking until there was nothing left. He allowed the lifeless body to sag down the wall afterwards; someone would come by to clean him up later. Youssef had died without his last smoke. The cigarette had dropped from his lips during the tasting and rolled beneath a nearby cabinet. Alucard was pleased with himself. The bartender had gotten what was coming to him. Now, he no longer mattered.

You were headed to Arad, a quaint little town that was livelier than this one, though not by much. He had visited it a few times prior, once during his time as a free vampire and twice during his service to Hellsing. If you managed to make it all the way there, he supposed it would be nice to see how the place had developed. If not, maybe he would return one day with you by his side, ready to drink your fill of innocent blood.

He slipped on his glasses and melted into the darkness once more, well aware of where you were. He couldn't make out your location with his shadows. Ever the academic, you had neglected to use higher levels of magic in favor of conserving energy and hiding from his gaze. If you had left the village by foot, which was a likely hypothesis, you would have only been able to travel through the first bit of thick wood, if even. You may have stopped somewhere along the way to eat and rest. He couldn't stop his lips from curling upward this time. It was probable that you were already within the forest, thinking that it could shroud and protect you.

You were precious, with your stupid ideologies and plans. It was downright folly for you the believe, at any point in time, that you were safe during this battle, and yet you did. During your time in his dungeon, he hadn't corrected your belief about the sunlight myth, figuring you would find out on your own with time. How shocked you would be to see him roaming underneath the golden rays. He would have to take heed, though. He hadn't completely tested the theory that he could exist within sunlight for a full daytime cycle. He was fortunate that it snowed often in this domain and that there were plenty of wooded patches for him take cover beneath. Even weakened, he was still a force to be reckoned with.

"Ready or not, my bride," he whispered into the wind as he charged across the snowy land. "Here I come."

\----------

A visceral pang of dread hit your chest suddenly as you made your way into the depths of the forest. This was either anxiety or the premonition of a very real threat approaching. You knew that the trees would help to shield you but you also knew of the desire that jolted through every cognitive process in his form; if he wanted to seek you desperately, he would find you effortlessly. You clutched your jacket closer to your face at the mere thought of him nearing you without your conscious acknowledgement. You felt as though he was a snake on a bed of tall grass, hell-bent on hunting the most delectable prey he had ever ingest. Shivering now not just from the chilly air, you clamped your eyes shut and stopped hovering, finally daring to create your first set of footprints in the crowded wood.

Your body was exhausted and your mind was in a similar state. The use of magic was making you groggy at the exact time when you needed to be the opposite. You rubbed your eyelids gingerly, stretching your arms high to give your body a quick stretch. You glanced around the darkness with your specialized vision, smiling only slightly upon seeing what looked like a small rodent searching for food. Aside from that, there was nothing living or undead around you. You were still secure in your position. The night was young, however, and you had to keep going.

You removed some of the food from your backpack, scarfing it down in an instant. You figured that you had better eat while you still had the chance. Ramming some salted nuts and dried cranberries past your lips, you closed your bag and slung it over your shoulder for safe keeping. You tried to maintain your loud chewing to a minimum, but it was so difficult. You earnestly hadn't had food in a long while. That hot chocolate had been the last thing that you could consider a small meal. You had managed to keep hydrated, however, filtering the snow with your magic and drinking your fill.

A branch snapped somewhere behind you. You stopped in your tracks, eyes wide and fists balled. You nudged your hood down to better your hearing and got ready to mobilize. It had been two hours since sunset; he couldn't have caught up to you already. Surely, it would have taken him a good half hour to rouse information from the villagers, and then at least three hours to catch up to you. Was he faster than you had thought...?

A dog scurried out from the bushes in front of you, looking to be quite nervous. Its fur was black and it had eyes to match. A young little thing, by the looks of it. There was a certain aura around the two of you, likely causing the animal's disarray, meaning there was no doubt that Alucard was coming. You tried to focus for a moment, stilling your breathing in order to feel where everything was. Trees upon trees upon trees... and then there was you and the dog. The vampire wasn't near enough to be detected yet. This gave you at least a small fraction of time to make extra headway before the battle began.

You turned to your latest companion and knelt to the ground, trying to shoo it away before it was needlessly killed by a psychotic, undead asshole. It was odd that you had found a dog all the way out where you were, but perhaps there was a small township close by.

"Come on, get out of here." You tried whispering angrily, pulling the map out of your bag whilst doing so. The air around you was getting tighter. The beast snarled at your attempt, backing up but not willing to leave the area. If that was its choice, then here would be its demise, you knew.

The map told you that the closest village was the one you had just left, several kilometers away. Peculiar.

Folding up the piece of rough paper, you shoved it back in your bag. Your next guess would have been that wild dogs lived in the region, but... No, that didn't make sense. There was something familiar about this dog. It felt domesticated rather than wild and it didn't appear to be very wet from the snow. This detail made you realize that what you had stumbled upon in the forest wasn't just any old house pet.

That's why you hadn't been able to sense him coming; he had already arrived. This was another of his forms, one that you hadn't been aware of. He had informed you, while you had been in his care, that he could also take on the form of a young girl. You supposed he had been careful as to not reveal all of his secrets to his capable captive. You hadn't picked up on him because he had actually disguised himself as a completely different being, leaving only a trace of his original form to detect. You had been searching for a much more intimidating presence. Rolling your eyes, you faced the dog with an agitated expression.

"Parlor tricks." You sneered, not at all impressed. One of your colleagues had been more convincing at shape-shifting than him. The dog disintegrated into shadows that quickly formed a sort of base around you. In the blink of an eye, he thought you to be trapped.

"I'm worse than a magician." His voice slithered into your ears.

"Depends on the magician." You retorted.

"You always have a stupid response up your sleeve." He sounded rather irritated, though beneath that you could hear the amusement. He liked this more than he was letting on. That was a bad sign for your safety.

"I think it's about time to stop playing games, Dracula." Your muttered lowly. "Step out of there." You gestured at the blackness that seemed to stretch on forever, not totally sure where he was.

He was projecting so that his voice bounced off of every tree around you. You didn't know where it was coming from, so you elected to turn in each direction until you found him. One way or another and for better or for worse, he would show himself.

You were panting hard, straining your eyes to see into the depths of the darkness, further than even your magic would allow. It was suffocating. You clutched your neck to ensure that there truly was nothing there to choke you. It was hard to tell which sensations were real, now that he had trapped you. He was a master at illusions that resembles reality so closely. It was haunting how he could make his prey feel as free as a bird whilst they are as trapped as a fruit fly in a grand spider's web. He had been holding back, that first time. For what reason, you did not know, but you speculated that he had a tendency to play with his food.

You couldn't see the light from the moon anymore and your eyes, even with the aid of magic, couldn't process much of what was in front of you. You weren't in the same forest you had been in moments ago; there was a sort of barrier confining you in place with him. It had gotten stronger since you had first noticed it. Though intimidating, you felt confident that you could zip through it with enough energy. You would wait for the right moment.

Alucard walked out of the shadows to the right of you, wide grin on his face and thirst eyes glistening with amusement. His arms were open slightly, as if he expected you to run and embrace him. Interesting, you didn't remember him being so much taller than you.

"How did it feel to be free for a day?" The vampire asked. "Did you enjoy your last taste of the sun?"

Small talk.

"What sun?" You replied hotly. The sun had barely made an appearance amidst the harsh weather.

Your timeless nemesis laughed, vocal tone boisterous, deep, and full of joy. "Yes, it was sparse today."

"You stayed up for it?" You rose an eyebrow at this.

He scoffed. "What else would I do?"

This confirmed that he didn't necessarily fear the sun. Could he walk under it and remain in its beams for long? You supposed you would find out soon enough.

"Sleep?" You inquired. 

He shook his head almost sorrowfully. "It only benefits me when I have someone to warm my bed."

"No rest for the wicked?" You asked sarcastically, not feeding into his flirtations.

He smirked. "Now you're starting to get it."

This discourse was getting you nowhere fast. You weren't sure if you wanted to drag it out longer or skip the details and shoot past his trap. It was impossible to know the correct decision. You just had to trust your heart and wait for the exact moment it felt right.

"A dog?" You questioned. If you absolutely had to speak with him, you would at least have him answer your curious inquiries.

He nodded. "My familiar. It was adorable watching you try to figure it out. I thought dragon priests were supposed to be sharp."

You didn't really have a response for that. It was a rightful taunt, really; you hadn't been able to determine his disguise as quickly as you would have liked. Nonetheless, this made the score even.

"How are your burns?" You asked rhetorically, knowing well that he would have healed them by now.

"Nonexistent. C for effort." He growled darkly, though his exasperated tone didn't match his elated face. "Don't try that again, my dear."

You didn't plan to. You weren't stupid enough to pull the same tricks on an ancient vampire twice.

"Just a C?" You grimaced. "Well, you know what they say about practice making perfect."

Dropping to your knees and kicking off the ground, you flew high, droplets of water and sprinkles of snow darting upward alongside you. Alucard watched your ascent with fascination for a split second, the world around him moving in slow motion as he watched your hair whip back, revealing your gorgeous face. Your (s/c) skin shone with sweat and your eyes were bloodshot, but still captivating. Down to your (thin/athletic/thick) body, you were exceptionally aesthetically pleasing. He loved women who had unique features. Your personality and cunning alone was enough to enthrall his attention, but it helped that you had such a charm about you. His favourite part of you -- physically, of course -- was your (favourite thing about your body). He licked his lips at the mere thought, fangs aching to protrude into your skin. Yes, that's exactly what he wanted to do.

Fangs elongated and eyes wide with various forms of lust, the vampire's eyes flashed a deeper shade of crimson behind his yellow-tinted glasses. He reinforced his shadows to the extreme. You wouldn't be able to escape. You would fall to the ground upon trying, where he would scoop you up and dig into his new bride without a moment's delay.

"Yes, priest!" He urged you, voice gruff and crazed. "Push yourself! Be your own demise!"

You didn't dare stop, knowing that if you hesitated, you would lose. He thought he could keep you in but he was sorely mistaken. You weren't keen on listening to his toxic beliefs at a time like this. What mattered was that you knew you could do it. You liked to think you knew your skills better than anyone else, and if Alucard thought otherwise, you would sort him out. You curved your body as far as it would go, using the position to break through the thick mass with a low pop. Your back hurt like hell, the barrier harder than you had expected it to be, but it was better than being entombed and at the mercy of the ancient asshole. The look on Alucard's face must have been priceless, for you felt the shadows twitch upon the destruction. Was this enough to prove that you were the architect of your future, your direction, and your power?

At once, you caught yourself in the air, stabilizing yourself before he could reform. Though you speed would have been enough to leave any other opponent in the dust, this was not the case for Alucard. Just as you were about to dart further upwards, you felt a tendril coil itself around your injured ankle. It threw you to the snowy earth, your heavy body bouncing upon impact. Beneath the layers of snow were layers of ice, it turned out.

The cocking of a gun followed after your landing. There was no immediate gunshot, but the labored silence was unnerving. You didn't move from your position, flopped onto your back, staring up at the sky as it poured its mist down to cover you. It was quiet. No animals were around, most of them smart enough to leave at the first hint of danger. The sky was cloudy and the moon was nowhere in sight. It would have been peaceful, had the situation been different. The rise and fall of your chest lulled you into a state of false tranquility for those seconds. It felt like home. Why did it feel like home? Was it the embrace of the snow and ice around your form, or was it the quiet environment that soothed you?

He was standing over you with his handgun ready to dislodge bullets into your chest. You knew of his plot to force you to the brink of death and then revive you into a species that regarded mortality as trivial. You took a deep breath and tried not to tremble.

"How anticlimactic." You murmured.

"Yes." He spoke softly, almost lovingly.

You gazed at him, eyes hazy and vision blurred from the snow melting on your eyelids. "Was it stupid to think that I could reach Arad?"

"Yes, but it made for one hell of a chase."

You rolled your eyes. He was so sure that he had won. You got to your feet and stood still, face emotionless yet eyes full of life. You looked akin to a college student at the start of freshmen year, before the existential dread hit them like a brick. 

Weakened? Yes, but you weren't done. There were dozens of strategies in your head, ready to be utilized. You smiled gingerly and prepared to fall back.

"Why get up when I'll shoot you back down?" Your opponent cackled, aiming and shooting at your torso in one swift motion.

You moved out of the way before the bullet could reach you. When the next four came, it was just like dancing. You flung your arms up and down as you maneuvered death, legs working overtime just so you could get enough clearance to fly. You hadn't wanted to use your trump card so early but this was dire. Throughout it all, his laugh was haunting. You would surely have nightmares about it if you managed to flee with your life.

You dodged the last bullet before he had to reload, finally gaining enough of a headway to fly. Only an inch off of the ground, you took you last free second to cast an ancient arte, ebonyflesh. It formed dark, translucent armour that gave you a little extra defense for tougher foes. This way, if you were hit by a bullet or two, they wouldn't penetrate your flesh. You summoned a familiar afterward, something your father had taught you to do in only the most extreme circumstances. Flame atronaches, beings that took on the shape of a slender woman made of coal and fire, were difficult casts to both control and maintain.

"Ah, such resolve!" Alucard sang, firing more bullets your way. "You continue to deny your purpose?"

You evaded each of the shots. "My purpose is to live for myself! I belong to no one!"

The atronach flung bolts of embers his way, having enough sense to keep out of the way of his attacks, as well. It was exhausting, having such a creature fighting alongside you, but you were grateful for the support. You accompanied your companion's attacks with zaps of lightning. Your face itched. The energy within you wanted to form a mask, encasing your flesh in a hardened cage that would take over your consciousness until you willed it back. The mask would grant you immense strength; only the most advanced dragon priests could create them. Appearing as though they had been forged at a renowned blacksmith for their unique carvings, the headgear were made through energy and magic in the priests, themselves. However, great power did bring on a great deal of responsibility.

The mask drained you, making it so that you could barely move for hours after it was used. Even after years of practicing with it, you still weren't able to minimize the recovery time. Hence, if you were defeated while wearing the mask, you would be utterly vulnerable. Even if you managed to escape, you would be incapacitated a short time afterward; he could easily catch up and capture you once and for all like this.

You shook your head, refusing to use this power right now. If it really started to look like you wouldn't be able to win, you would consider it. For now, you would use everything else at your disposal.

Alucard considered your words closely, perhaps over-analyzing them as he fought you. It was true; as of this moment in time, you belonged only to your whims. It would be a different story, once you were bitten. This spirit running through your veins, this drive like he had never seen before, and your overwhelming desire to remain far away from the undead made you intriguing. He liked this side of you, the side that was on the brink of desperation. He wondered what you had planned to do in Arad, exactly. He hadn't proved the minds of the townsfolk enough, not particularly caring about the minor details. Lacking patience, he had followed right after you.

"Tell me," he started, narrowly avoiding one of the scalding hot bolts your atronach had maliciously sent toward him. "What's so special about Arad?"

You didn't know if he was playing dumb to get a rise out of you or if he earnestly didn't know about your quest. This was suspect, to be sure. When you didn't respond he tried again, this time shooting black tendrils your way with a hellfire of bullets.

"Answer me, priest!" He shouted over the white noise.

"Release me and find out!" You countered, using your magic to nullify the offensive moves.

He snarled, watching intently as you found your way around everything he had thrown at you so far. So this was your potential. It wasn't common for beings to survive his attacks and yet there you flew, independent and powerful just beyond him. He had three choices from this point, he knew. The first was to let you get to Arad, just for the sheer adventure of it, and extend the chase. The second was to kill you now with a fast melee attack and fly back to the castle with a nee bride. Lastly, the third was to continue the battle and see all of what you had to offer. All of the choices were exceptionally attractive. It was nearly an impossible choice. All of the options would lead to the same conclusion; you would be coming home with him. It was just a matter of how quickly he wanted you.

His loins begged him to kill you instantly, while his heart willed for him to see what more you had in store for him. His brain, however, craved for the thrill of the hunt. He was a creature of the night, after all; he had forced mortals through far worse than he would subject you to, but that wasn't to say that he wouldn't play with you a bit. It was in his nature, to be cruel, he supposed. Perhaps humans had been correct in their legends about him.

Indeed, he was treacherous.

He grinned in a way that made you sick to your stomach before pulling a serious power move. With a great burst of energy, he opened his eyes and arms wide, creating a sudden surge in strength that you had never before seen. In one fell swoop, your atronach was vanquished and you were blown out of the air by an unseen gust of wind, skidding across the icy snow at an abnormally high velocity. At that moment, though you could not see him as you slid further and further away, you thought him to look akin to God. You didn't know what sort of ability that had been, but it intimidated you. He had whipped you away from the battle field like a fly and he hadn't even touched you. The vampire had somehow entered God mode and you absolutely did not want to know what else he was capable of at this point.

This reinforced the idea that you desperately needed backup, with of without the bracelet on you. You couldn't defeat this being alone; it was time to finally admit it. If he didn't relent here, you would die before you were even able to find any potential support. There had to be like-minded folk out there who wanted the same as you -- the end of Alucard. If you got away from him now and made it to Arad, there was no telling what sort of people you would meet. You frowned at the notion that you might not live past these next few minutes. Your best wasn't enough anymore; that was a difficult pill to swallow.

Your body crashed against the trunk of an evergreen tree, snow on its branches sailing down where you landed as you scrambled to get to your feet. Your jacket had been ripped open from the burst and it was ripped in numerous places from the excessive sliding. Your boots had suffered, too. They were, at best, wet and useless for warmth. When you had smeared the snow and water from your face, you weren't surprised to find him directly in front of you, close enough to reach out and snatch you well before you could gather the rest of your bearings. Both of your wrists in his cold hands and your (small/full/plump) breasts against his toned stomach, your breathing hitched when you heard him emit a dark chuckle. You struggled to back up, kicking up a flurry of snow as you dug your heels into the frigid earth and writhed with wild abandon. It was degrading to be trapped in his grasp like a lover when you would always be nothing short of his enemy.

He spun you around so your back was facing him, pulling you into his chest as he knelt down to your neck. You flailed when you felt his breath against your skin. You were in complete panic mode. In his grasp, your body felt weak and your mind foggy. He had either reactivated the bracelet or done something else to you. Little by little, you became too drained to struggle. When your body sagged after a few more minutes of fighting you were heaving, lungs straining for air and rest. He hadn't even budged. His muscles hadn't flexed against your sporadic body movements. He had remained still, like a statue, as you had battled for your right to live.

The audacity.

"Done?" He asked, tongue pressing against your neck for a split second before retracting. A shiver ran up your spine. So overwhelmed, you could barely speak. He took this as unspoken acceptance. "Look at the sky with me, weak little lamb."

You spat at his feet with as much vigor as you could muster. This was torturous. Why did he have to put on such an act? Why couldn't he merely kill you and be done with it. He tilted you back in his arms, making your head lulled against him. Your (e/c) orbs met brilliant hues of purple and blue amidst the dark canopy of trees. When had the weather cleared up? A bright half moon was out tonight, though you couldn't see it. It lit up even the darkest crevices of the forest..

His lips touched the lowest part of your neck, leaving kisses that would have made you melt had they not been coming from such a horrid monster. Every so often, he would tease your (s/c) skin by pressing a long fang against it. You squirmed each time, knowing you would not be able to get away when he eventually sank his teeth into your neck. Feeling frail was a big hit to your ego. Despite being sick with terrible colds in the past, you had been able to function and overcome any obstacles. When your mother had died, you hadn't wasted time moping about, either. You had gotten to your feet and functioned to the fullest of your capabilities before your father had shown up. No -- you couldn't recall a time in your life where you had felt this defeated, though being chained in this monster's basement was a close second.

Like no other time in the past, it truly looked as though you would have to accept the loss of yourself.

"I want you," Alucard growled into your ear. "I want you more than I've wanted anyone before."

This was it. This was it and you couldn't even speak.

What sort of magic was he using on you? Why wasn't he at least allowing you the strength to respond? He claimed that he loved your backtalk during one of your moments together in the castle. Had he lied or was shutting you up just easier? You hoped that the latter was true. You wanted to annoy him with your comebacks and sarcasm. It was the absolute least you could do to get back at him for the multitude of drama he had caused you. Your fallen comrades, which you hadn't even gotten the chance to mourn or pay respects to, along with your freedom and your physical and emotional well being... did he consider the damage he was inflicting or did he simply not care?

The hate you felt for him in your belly was great. If he transformed you right now, you would be sure to carry this hate with you for the rest of your undead life. He would not penetrate the emotional barrier you would form, no matter what sort of threats he barked at you. He didn't deserve anything, much less love or willing affection. You felt both of his fangs against your neck, jabbing against your flesh with more pressure this time.

'Just do it,' You told him inwardly. The anticipation was killing you faster than he planned to. 'Just fucking do it.'

You stood there with him for five minutes, ten minutes, and twenty minutes, but the pinch of broken skin never came. He held you for an hour, keeping you warm in the confines of his red jacket. You didn't feel the brush of wind anywhere on your body despite your jacket torn to shreds. All of your magic had worn off a while ago with the remainder of your energy. He had successfully weakened you but had since failed to fulfill his self-made prophecy. The only strength you had regained was your power of speech and even that felt strained. You had elected not to use it until you had to.

"You are a temptress, making me wait." He murmured.l finally. The slightest hint of a Romanian accent touched his lips, confusing you. This was a side or him you hadn't yet heard. "My patience is wearing thin."

You felt as though you were being accused of something which you had no control over. You weren't trying to tempt him or act in a flirtatious manner. Even if you had been, what was this about being patient? He had you. He could do as he pleased with you. That had been part of the deal, after all, so why wasn't he doing anything? You didn't dare utter a word.

"I'm going to ask you one more time," he said. "What do you hope to accomplish in Arad? Give me a sufficient answer."

"'Sufficient' or 'correct'?" You countered.

"You're making this difficult," he hissed. His grip tightened and his nails dug into your waist. One of his hands slid upward, moving underneath your clothes. Your breath hitched. You could feel every little movement of his fingers, colder than the environment against your skin. "But perhaps that's a good thing."

"Someone at the bar sent me there. There are hunters there, people who may have helped me defeat you." You didn't want to reveal that you had been travelling there to remove the bracelet. If you admitted that, he could easily go and kill the man you were going to meet. You didn't want to involve him in this mess if you didn't have to.

His hands stopped moving just below the crevice between your breasts, satisfied that you had spoken. You felt then hesitate before completely leaving downward. He had been right about having patience. You didn't want to think about what he would have done to you if he had been a tad more uninhibited. 

"Who are they?" He demanded next, to which you could not answer. You didn't know of any hunters in Arad. You barely knew of any hunters anywhere. You had kept to yourself mostly, with the exception of your late comrades.

"I don't know. I don't even know who I was supposed to be looking for."

"You're lying." He was getting angry.

"I'm not. Why the hell would I? It's too much work."

"You're protecting him."

"Protecting who?" You challenged. "Who the fuck am I protecting? This is my first time in Romania and no one even knows where I am. You killed anyone who would have cared enough about me when you killed my mates."

"It's not wise to take that tone with me when I could crush you with a glare." You didn't understand what was making him so enraged. It was likely a combination of his temptations and something else... Something you couldn't quite put your finger on. Fear, perhaps. "The bartender told me of him."

You were curious to know what could possibly spook one of the oldest surviving undead creatures.

"Did you kill him?" You asked, already knowing the answer.

"It was necessary."

"It never is." You whispered mournfully. "You only perceive it as such."

"How long have you been alive, my dear?" You neglected to answer. It didn't matter how long you had been around; there was a point he was trying to make. "Not long enough to understand that every action has consequences. The consequence for turning a blind eye to one man, sparing his life like he would not spare mine, could be my life. Though, it is true that he had it coming."

"You've confirmed my previous statement about threat perception." You lamented sardonically. "It doesn't matter how many more years you've been around, Grandpa. In my eyes, Youssef didn't deserve what he got."

He laughed full-heartedly at your jab regarding his age. It had been a long time since anyone bothered him about that. Often taking on a younger appearance than his original form, which was that of an armored middle aged man, those around him tended to forget that he was centuries older than him. You were ever-cognizent of your predicament, refusing to let him off the hook. Unlike you, he had forgiven you for quite a bit. He hadn't felt well about you saying that bartender's name so mournfully. He knew that you hadn't slept with him -- your scent had been damn near non-existent on his body. His problem related to the emotion you had placed into his name. He had not at all worthy of such a thing. He had died a coward, thinking he had the ability to outwit Dracula just because he had more than two neurons to rub together to make a thought. He had been nothing special in the end -- just intelligent. Alucard couldn't wrap his head around why you couldn't see him for what he was. He was the entire package and only he was able to be your mate. It was the possessiveness running through his veins that caused his thoughts to soar. He had grown accustomed to the idea of you by his side. Indeed, you had caught so much of his attention that he felt an ungodly strong urge to ensure that absolutely no one else had you.

Your scent was glorious and your beauty was unconventional for his tastes but nonetheless, like no other. You didn't tick off all of his boxes at first, granted. It had only been when he had spent time with you that he fell into your abyss. He sighed, knowing that loneliness had been the culprit regarding his excessive temptations and singular need of you.

He could forgive your little faults and minor grievances, especially if he slaughtered everyone you came into contact with. This would isolate you, draw you to him without your comprehension. If he conducted the plan blossoming in his mind correctly, this would be the simplest way to capture both your mind and your body. His lips stretched wide across his face, hair blowing wildly in the sudden gust of wind that blew violently across the snowy hills.

Why not prolong this game? He saw no harm in it. It would be a test of his self control, proof that he was above even his most significant urges. Additionally, the number of mind games he could play with you was deliciously high; you wouldn't be out of his sight for more than 48 hours. On an alternative note, this would also afford him the time to investigate this claim that the ancestors of Hellsing's former members were out of his blood.

"Do you want to try again?" He asked you spontaneously, kissing your neck gently. "I can't very well end a good game of cat and mouse."

"I thought I was a weak lamb." You rolled your eyes, aware that this offer had to be a trap. Fear probably tasted better when it was high, and the shock of him sinking his teeth into you after agreeing to let you go would be delectable. You wanted to taste as terrible as you could. "I'm not stupid. I won't buy into your schemes. Why would you let me go now, when you're drooling at the thought of turning me into your thrall."

"Not my thrall," he swiftly corrected you. "My bride. Still obedient but not expendable. There's also the added bonus of procrea--"

"Okay! No! I know what a bride is!" You didn't want to feel any more nauseous than you already did.

"You are a weak lamb." He snickered, teasing you. "You are a mouse, as well. Any animal who has a natural predator at the Apex of the food chain is akin to you and I. The best predator always wins."

"Then why release me if you know the outcome?" You didn't like where this was going.

"Because I want to see you get stronger for me. I want to see if you can even come close to killing me, either on your own or with some pathetic team you manage to assemble." That wasn't necessarily a lie. His main goal was still to soften you up and do away with you, but there wasn't anything wrong with ripening you for the picking. "I want to respect you, (f/n). Let your end be something you're proud of this time."

"This is going to go the same way tomorrow night." You voice sounded small.

You appeared to be defeated. You couldn't deny the truth to your words. Unless you allowed your mask to emerge, you didn't stand a chance at prevailing over him. It was depressing to admit; you had been so sure that you had the power to at least give him some sort of handicap. He had found you quickly and he had captured you in record speed. Though you weren't weak, you were certainly weaker than him across the whole tactical board.

"How about I show you how kind I can be, priest?" His voice had gotten lower and more feral. You were surprised that his hands could control themselves, gripping your waist so tightly. "I'll give you nine days. Six and a half to walk and two and a half to talk. After nine days, I'll come for you."

"Why are you doing this? Tell me the true reason." You demanded, voice raised.

"Who knows? Maybe I'll already be amongst you and your companions."

"I don't accept this bargain."

"Just when you think you're safe, you'll be in my arms. I adore the smell of your fear, (f/n)."

"Are you listening to me? I.don't.accept." You tried desperately to interrupt his tirade.

"Accept this bargain or act a failure and remain here in this region for nine days." His form faded from where you stood at that moment, your body, which you hadn't even registered had been suspended, crashing to the frigid floor. "Either way, the power I have over you will force you to yield."

And then he was gone as quickly as he had appeared, leaving his final sentence hanging in the air like a worn noose. The way he had articulated it wasn't sitting well with you, as you gathered yourself from the ground. You body was regrettably warm from how long he had held you, giving you the energy you needed to dust yourself off and assess your damage. Your ankle was hurt again and the ice had bitten into your skin in several areas, as revealed by your jacket, which had been damn near shredded to bits. Thankfully, you would be able to heal yourself of the shallow wounds, but the ankle would prove to be an issue. You didn't have time to let it rest, save for whenever you elected to fly. Nevertheless, with this last battle against Alucard, you didn't think you had the magic needed to do much of anything.

You still felt defeated, something he had probably encouraged to make his challenge easier. You could barely comprehend why he had relented at the last second. A free meal, one that he had been pining after for hours, had presented itself before him and he had turned away. There was such a thing as the thrill of the chase but this seemed to extend beyond just amusement. He had a trick or two up his sleeve, to be sure. He wanted you to be aware of your surroundings, to be aware of him. You weren't sure how you would even begin to do this, as you hadn't been able to detect his canine form until you utilized logic.

You would have to second guess yourself at every turn. There could be no more room for mistakes. Yes, your life was on the line, but it was more than that now. It was about proving to yourself that this oppressor of yours wasn't as immortal as he thought he was. It was about being able to land a devastating blow. It was about having him recoil from you in some manner of the term. It was about not necessarily coming out on top, but showing yourself that you could bounce back from even your biggest failure. Despaired or not, you had to continue. It was fruitless to remain in one spot for nine days. Your mother had always encouraged you to continue on, even when you felt you already knew the outcome. You didn't know who you would meet in Arad and you didn't want this bracelet on your wrist for any longer. You weren't sure how Alucard would present himself though you were quite sure that he would already be there waiting for you. You would have to screen everyone you met, even simple shopkeepers. It would be a tough job that may or may not pay off. It could destroy you or contribute to your rising.

You rolled your eyes in pure frustration. You felt akin to one of those women who continually took back their partners after they had thoroughly cheated on them. You would have to try again, you knew; it was the only way you would feel satisfied with whatever outcome emerged.

"Fine, fine, fine!" You screamed to the dim sky, running your hands through your damp hair. You knew he heard you. You knew he was still creeping around somewhere only a few metres from you, analyzing your response to his barter.

You stood by what you had thought earlier, about this ordeal being torturous. You had a pretty good idea that he would prevail once more, when nine days had come and gone. He had known that you would take up the challenge. He had wanted to resume this bloodbath of both your body and within the realms of your mind and soul. Losing again would diminish more of your spirit and he surely had a few old tricks up his sleeve to deliver.

Kicking the ever-loving shit out of the closest evergreen tree to you, you growled and hissed curse words for however long it took you to at least feel marginally better.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots going on here. Some sexy times, some affection, some hate, some manipulation... The usual elements that accompany any real vampire.  
> Thanks for all of the bookmarks and kudos!!! I know Hellsing is an old fandom, but it's really nice to see that some people are still interested in stories about yandere ass vampires.


	6. Chapter VI: The Inescapable Terror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rogue campers turn out to be dangerous - or at least, they think so. Alucard speaks with you in a dream despite the dream being of your mind's origin. Christoph Dornez is eccentric.

"Any vacancies for three nights, preferably a room with a queen bed?" Begrudgingly, you had arrived -- a day earlier than you had anticipated, even. Anything was possible when you were running on zero hours of sleep and no food.

The concierge didn't seem to speak English. This wasn't much of a surprise to you, given where you were. He tilted his head to one side and furrowed his brows, asking you in a mix of what sounded like three different dialects to, you presumed, repeat yourself using at least one of them. You shook your head to convey that you couldn't speak his languages, and then got to work on your charades.

You pressed your hands together and moved them to the side of your head. "Sleep for..." You stuck up three fingers. "Three nights." You pointed to the book with multiple signatures and guest information in front of him. "Da?"

He nodded and held up three fingers. "Da. Tri sotni." He pointed at the cash box so you understood that he was disclosing the price of the stay with you.

"Da." You knew that he wouldn't yet charge you. This was something you had discovered during your journey to the Arad.

On the early morning of the sixth day since you had fled the place where Alucard had spared you, you had found yourself at death's doorstep. Running through all the food in your backpack in just four days, you had been operating off of filthy water before coming across them. There, as you had stepped to the top of a large, icy hill, skidding for the hundredth time as you had attempted to maintain stability, you spotted a light in the distance. Trees had shrouded your view, but after a few minutes of staring at it, you deduced that it was light from a fire.

Trudging down the hill, too weak to fly due to lack of resources and what little magic you had left being used to warm your body, you guided yourself toward what you presumed to be people. It was a frigid night, as usual. The warmth would do you good. As you had shifted through the evergreens with full intention of socialization, danger had been a mere afterthought. What mattered, at the time, had been reaching Arad safely. The town had been nearby to the camp, but you knew well that your body had just about reached its limit. If you had allowed yourself to collapse, you knew that your opponent would be there in mere seconds to scoop you into his selfish grasp. You refused to go out this way.

The fire had belonged to two Australian men, an Englishman, and English woman. Each of them had been shocked to see you, particularly when they took into your appearance. You had looked as bad ad you had felt, then. Within the hour, the woman had offered you winter clothing while the men had given you the most delicious berries and tea. You recalled drinking the concoction greedily, not remembering the last time you had enjoyed a good cup of tea. You had told them of your story, faking only half of it in order to keep up with the facade you had decided for yourself. 

You informed them that you had caught the attention of a powerful vampire, which they had firmly believed. It seemed as though they had known about the tales told across the regions in Romania. You additionally told them that you had been running from the beast, in search of a man who could potentially save your life. They hadn't known your contact by name, but they had heard of some great mages and warriors in Arad.

They told you of their journey, too. They had been friends for many years, employed by separate underground organizations when they had met ten years ago. Two of the men had been involved in sex trafficking, a crime that had made you feel queasy upon hearing of it, while the other man and the woman had worked as mercenaries for hire. After a few hours of conversing, including inquiries about working temporarily in Arad and paying for hotels, you had made to get up from your seat on a small waterproof tarp. The woman had urged you to sit back down and ride out the last few hours of darkness with them, since you were being hunted by a vampire. They promised quickly to protect and watch over you as you slept.

That was the second you had realized that something was wrong.

A small, sad smile crossed your lips as you bade the hotel keeper good day, for it was nine o'clock in the morning, and crossed the small lobby toward a long hallway of about ten doors. A quaint place, you ignored the filthy floors and the strange, tiny bugs that darted across the walls as you made your way to your suite. Keys in hand, your moved like a ghost, body feeling light as you reached your room and entered your abode, kicking off your wet, disheveled boots immediately.

The room appeared to be cleaner than the hallway, thankfully. The bed had been made and the heat was on at full capacity. It was, in all honesty, everything that you had ever wanted.

You barely made it to your bed before collapsing onto the mattress as the door closed and locked behind you. Curtains already pulled over and blocking the light from fluttering across your form, you closed your eyes and thought of the campers who had believed themselves worthy enough to be your opponents.

\----------

"I appreciate the tea and berries," you said, a reassuring smile on your face as you successfully stood from the tarp. "I don't know where I would be if I hadn't decided to recharge with you all. That said, I have to get going."

The woman, Emily, got to her feet, as well, and you noticed the growing desperation on her face. "With respect, traveller, that's proper stupid. You're weak. I wouldn't feel right about letting you go off on your own."

The word weak hit you like a knife. Since your pathetic defeat, it had become a sort of trigger word for the slow destruction of your self-esteem and confidence during combat. You knew that she hadn't said it to specifically hurt you; she had probably meant that you were weak from exhaustion. Nonetheless, you mind was jumping to the most irrational conclusion and running with it. You felt anger brewing at the pit of your stomach.

"Agreed." One of the Australian men, Felix, confirmed. "Stay the night here and walk to Arad with us at sunrise. Wouldn't hurt to hold off for a few hours, would it?"

As much as you wanted to give in, the anger and bad feelings in your heart, coupled with your impending time limit wouldn't let you. Shaking your head once more, you moved to grab your backpack. The other Aussie, Eli, kicked the garment away with god-like speed, and before you could react you were grabbed from behind.

Man, these guys really wanted you to stay.

You smashed your elbow into your assailant and spun around to knock him one in the nose. It had been the Englishman... you couldn't quite recall his name. He was holding his nose with a quivering hand, eyes wild with fury as he stood and stared at you. None of them made a move. You shifted your body sideways, so that you could get a lock on all of their positions. There was no doubt that they had a few tricks up their sleeves, each of them seemingly renowned in their criminal fields.

"What the fuck is this?" You asked, voice hoarse and exasperated.

"Are you stupid enough to think that we would tell you about our 'past' professions and literally just allow you to leave?" Emily was peering at you from her peripherals as she ripped her head back and laughed. It was an overdramatic display or erroneously presumed dominance, to say the least.

"We're sex traffickers, darling," the nameless Aussie cooed. "And you're quite the looker. Gonna rent you out for a fine price."

You retched visibly. "Oh God, that's disgusting... and cruel. Do you prey on women travelling alone?"

"Only the pretty little weak ones." Felix replied.

There was that word again: weak. Your eye twitched involuntarily. You wore the guise of weak well enough that even complete strangers bought it. This had never been an insecurity for you in the past, but now there was something deep within your heart that ached for you to exact revenge on absolute scum.

"I'm a dragon priest, you tart." You growled lowly. "And after, like, five days of hiking through this shit, I doubt I'm much of a looker."

You knew that you were a mess. It was, in a way, flattering that they didn't seem to mind. Had this been another sort of situation with different personalities, you might have even been woo'ed by Felix - he was handsome if you overlooked his fragile moral compass. Nevertheless, you knew that the people before you would die before the sun rose. You couldn't justify not killing them, now that they had admitted to their crimes. Typically, you would have gone easy on them with your magic and turned them into the authorities. This time, however, there was no other option. There was no law enforcement close enough and you lacked the time to commit anything short of murder. It wasn't an ideal option, of course, as you weren't the type to enjoy maiming your enemies. You weren't like the dragon priests of old, who had been more than willing to facilitate carnage at any chance. When your father had taken you beneath his wing to study, he had made you vow to refuse the ways of the past. A peaceful man at heart, you were nothing less than his daughter.

But enough was enough.

"A dragon priest...?" The Englishman didn't seem familiar with your existence; this wasn't surprising.

Your people were well known in ancient times, but most of the population had forgotten about you. History books denoted a grand battle between mortals and dragons, though they often left out the bit about the dragon priests. Particularly curious individuals could do their research beyond the classroom and uncover the treachery and servitude of priests much colder than you or your father, but there weren't many who had the time to do such a thing. Criminals like these guys probably didn't even have access to the resources necessary to comprehend your essence.

"Dragon priests are just glorified mages, ain't they?" Eli asked the others.

You rolled your eyes. This wasn't the first time you had heard that sort of comment. Glorified mages. You couldn't kill these people fast enough.

Felix scoffed. "Whatever they are, dragon priests don't exist around these parts. We've handled a mage before, anyway. Em, stick 'er."

Emily moved a little too close to you with what looked to be a syringe filled with some toxic substance. They didn't believe you and it would be their demise. You might have allowed them to flee, had they taken your proclamation seriously.

You raised a hand up to the woman and shot an arrow of ice through her chest at such a high velocity that it went completely through her body. In seconds, she fell on her back, eyes wide as she registered her final moments in suffering. The other three looked about the same but with more life in their faces and less red on their torsos.

"Oh, shit...!" Eli whimpered. "Oh, fuck...!"

"You've handled a mage before?" You taunted, face holding no expression as you scanned each of them. If they were as stupid as you believed them to be, they would charge you in a futile attempt to avenge their colleague.

The Englishman fell to his knees, evidently grieving for the young woman you had ended effortlessly. The scene would have made your heart ache, had you not known the reason behind the tragedy. He grovelled for a few moments, sobbing without tears as he mourned what had likely been his woman, before Felix made his move. As anticipated, he charged toward you, screaming about how you were going to be maimed at the top of his lungs. If there had been any birds in this god-forsaken wooded area, they would have fled from the energy of his rage alone. It was a shame that he wasn't as powerful as he let on.

You debated using fire rather than ice this time, but ultimately decided to keep things simple and clean. You shot a dagger of ice at his torso. He managed to dodge the attack with some quick footwork, though the pellet still hit him in the shoulder. He clenched his teeth as the cold hit his flesh, penetrating him harshly and remaining lodged within him until he finally fell from the fifth bitter pike.

"Who's next?" Your vocal tone was one of disinterest. "Let's get this over with."

"You think you can just--"

You cut the Eli off with the most disturbed look you could muster. "You think you can just abduct women on a whim and expect to be spared when it's your time?"

The two men didn't seem attuned what you were saying, anger, shock, and confusion rattling their senses as they eyed you with contempt. They really thought they could hurt you. They fell to your ice bolts one at a time, neither of them capable enough to get even a metre's length from you. The deaths were short and easy. There was minimal suffering involved, despite their crimes. They could no longer hurt anyone or waste your precious time; this was good enough for you.

In the distance, as you paused for a few seconds to catch your bearings, you heard a faint chuckle. You didn't need to ask to know who had been watching you. Of course he was keeping an eye on you, and he was likely quite impressed with your recent actions. It made your stomach churn to think of him smiling keenly at your decision to end them all, knowing that he was probably using it to justify why you had a dark side that was oddly perfect for the likes of him.

"You are ideal for me," his voice carried itself to you via the wind. "Accept me. I can enhance your abilities so that you would be a match for any opponent, even me."

"I handled myself fine. You have no grounds to barter with me. Besides," you regarded the sky with a calloused expression. "Begging isn't a good look on you... Not that obsession is, either."

He wouldn't show himself -- not now. It was too early for that. You could pretty well say what you pleased to him at this point without fear of repercussions. It brought you a mild form of joy, having at least some power over yourself. You had gone weeks without autonomy.

"Ah," he hummed. "And yet, you find yourself attracted to me. Do I know you better than you know yourself, priest?"

You froze for only a split second, but his laughter denoted that he had caught it. "You're out of your goddamn mind, Alucard."

He had to be off the mark with that comment. You didn't want to give yourself to him, and hence you didn't find him visually appealing. That was that... right? Your brain brought you back to your first battle with him, how you had thought him to be most handsome despite being disheveled by your spontaneous outburst of focused magic.

All right, maybe he wasn't.

Maybe there was a part of you that found him to be handsome. This would have been fine if he was like any other man you had encountered. If he had been a mortal, even one who had twisted intentions, you still might have allowed yourself to admit some degree of attraction.

But it was him.

He was a time-defying, immortal, over-powered vampire who had destroyed your comrades and taken you away from the rest of the world for weeks on end. He was toxic in every sense of the word, utterly starving for control over you. Under his spell, you wouldn't ever be able to escape from him. How could you think he was physically appealing? This was nothing short of folly.

You didn't find him attractive when taking into consideration his cunning, his strength, his battle prowess, his wit, his sheer ability to fuck you over at every fork in the road, his smirk when he thought he had overpowered you, his--

Oh, god. You shook your head, overwhelmed.

Okay. It was fine to think that your enemy was a little bit of a hunk, wasn't it? Even if he was obsessed with killing you so that you could serve by his side for eternity? You shook your head again at that. No, it probably wasn't.

Regrettably, you couldn't help who you found appealing. Someone could have the worst intentions with the prettiest face. It wasn't wrong for you to feel some pull of attraction toward the vampire... was it? It was okay as long as you didn't act on it... wasn't it?

"Yes, of course it is, my bride." He purred, voice getting closer. "Even if you were to act on those delicious, budding feelings of yours, you'd be swiftly forgiven."

You couldn't move but how you wanted to run. He was inside your head. He could hear your thoughts. He hadn't been able to penetrate your mind this way before, though it appeared he had found some way to exploit your weakened state to remedy this shortcoming. Your horror grew the less control you had, because no being had ever been so threatening as to slowly remove every bit of control you had over your life.

"You still have authority. There exist few who can overthrow me and you are not one of them." You could hear the smirk on his face. He was still a warlord at heart, torturing his prey at every stage of the chase. "Maybe you will find one in Arad, if fate sees fit. Whatever you do, the end will be the same. You know this."

You did know this. That was the entire reason why you hadn't wanted to continue his rigged game of cat and mouse.

"You know, you're an expert at pissing people--"

"Your fate is to die by my side." He continued. "Whether you accept it or not, this is fortuitous for you. You will be immortal. You will be strong. You will be damn near unstoppable. All of these enhancements for but one price; your loyalty."

"Loyalty," you growled. "It's more than loyalty you want."

"An aspect that accompanies such." He acknowledged, raising an inquisitive brow. "So prude you are, to reject the most carnal of desires."

He had picked up on your allusion to sex. It was no secret what he wanted to do to you. At least twice as a prisoner in his basement, you had believed he would force himself on you. His biting had gotten out of hand on both of those occasions, where his soft methods of torture had turned into steamy sessions of him nibbling your flesh lightly, never quite penetrating your skin.

The first time, one of his fangs had pricked a particularly sensitive spot on your chest and you had started bleeding. As soon as the smell had hit his nose, his face changed from composed to starving. He had stopped, then, eyes crazed with lust and hands twitching to touch you as much as they wanted. Grabbing you and pulling your restrained body into his lap, he hadn't allowed you to struggle away until he had completely stripped you and was in the process of hastily undoing his belt. The realization that he was acting on pure vampiric instinct must have hit him like a drum in that moment, for he had halted mid way and released you. The bruises he had left on your hips had remained there for days. He hadn't apologized, though you had noticed an emotion akin to shame in his eyes on occasions where you would recount the infuriating, dehumanizing event.

The second time had been just as unexpected. He had arrived to feed you after days of food restriction. You had mouthed off to him, something about hoping that you would find away to kill yourself before he turned you. This hadn't sat well with him. He had tried to compose himself for a time, standing tall and verbally prodding you, as he often did -- shallow displays of dominance. Just as he had turned to leave you, presumably for a few more days, he had stopped. Hands twitching, he had looked at you over his shoulder. While he had left soon after, his eyes had struck the fear of God into you. Ravenous was the only word you could use to describe it, though not for any sort of food. Never in your life had a person gazed upon what you had to offer with such thirst. Had he not left then, you were nearly positive that he would have--

The thoughts were making your stomach churn uncomfortably.

"I really don't want to sleep with you." You said firmly.

It was blatant, crude, and perhaps not entirely honest. There was a small part of you which didn't completely reject the notion, not when you imagined giving into the pleasure he had to offer. Willingly allowing him to touch you was a pleasant thought that you were aware could never happen, and he knew this well.

"You lie." He thundered, emerging from the shadows of the forest behind you and baring his fangs. His red coat rustled in the wind. His glasses were off and his flamboyant red hat had been retired. His black hair was wavy, long, and significantly damp from the snowfall.

It shook you to the core, seeing him make an appearance before your nine days were up. It also made your heart pang, feeling the desire that loomed between the two of you. He was drinking in your form, eyes burning through your new winter gear and undressing you inch by inch. It should have made you grossly uncomfortable. What the fuck was wrong with you?

"You lie, my foolish woman, even if you don't know it to be true," he snarled with a hint of a Romanian accent, materializing in front of you. His shadows encased both of you as the surrounding landscape disappeared from view. Rough, loveless gloved hands cupped your face and your breath hitched. You felt as though your feet had been covered in ice, rooting your steadily in place. "You may delude yourself for now, but you will stop denying me after you're mine. All it will take will be close proximity and fine attention to detail."

"I've never met someone so full of themselves," you hissed, rejecting his nonsense, to which he released a sinister chuckle.

"I have set a high standard for myself across many realms. Few have denied me what I want." He explained proudly. "A hideous vampire would not yield willing victims."

You scoffed despite your quivering legs. You didn't understand the connection he was trying to make between turning you into his bride and how fetching he was; you assumed that he had already deducted that you found him attractive. What was more ridiculous was the idea that someone would allow Alucard to drink their blood until they were dry.

"A voluntary blood bank?" You wondered aloud. "'I'm skeptical."

"In a collective society that worships flesh, you can't fathom a mortal who would die in the name of physical attraction?"

He had a point. There were some rather desperate people out there. You continuously heard stories of greedy, vain gestures that made you question where good old fashioned kindness and hard work had gone. Perhaps it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that the ancient vampire had managed to gather his victims with his charisma and youthful appearance. Nonetheless...

"That doesn't change the fact that I'm not a willing victim, nor will I be if left in my right mind."

You had to account for his mind altering techniques. You were aware that he could control his brides and thralls after biting them. You would surely be forced to do as he said at one point or another, particularly sexual acts or lavishing, but it was important for you to note that your heart wouldn't be in it. Hell, he wasn't even an adequate romantic candidate on your list -- no one was. You had preferred to spend your days alone, until you had met Henrick, one of your deceased comrades. While alive, he had given you an inkling of hope that you wouldn't be all that lonely throughout your long life. You hadn't formed an overly strong attachment to the man, though you had experienced butterflies in your gut while in his presence... and more, once you had confessed to finding him cute. It made you angry that Alucard had taken it upon himself to--

You bit your lower lip then, not wanting to spiral. The vampire had been obsessed with you for God knew how long, and certainly well before you had taken notice of him. The legends had been mere whispers gently tickling your inner ear; the dealings of Hellsing had only concerned you when they had regarded Millennium many moons ago. It was haunting, how someone you had barely given a second or third thought to had generated such intense lust for you.

"As much as I absolutely despise it when you think of other men... I'm pleased that you're starting to process the magnitude of your situation." He proclaimed like the proud, jealous architect that he was.

"The degree of danger that I'm in was never an inquiry." You were insulted that he assumed that you hadn't been able to accurately assess your predicament.

"You want to know why I chose you, of all beings." He confirmed, knowing by now that it had been plaguing you since your initial abduction. "Is it not enough that you are a fetching little priest full of immense promise? That though you never lived to serve the dragons, you still possessed the aptitude to learn and extend your father and his colleagues' teachings?"

You shook your head. "No."

He hummed softly, wearing an inquisitive expression, head tilted to the side with a single black brow raised. "You are a difficult woman to please. It should be easy enough to figure out. I have chosen you to be my bride. All of my previous brides have been... special." He sighed. "Your lack of comprehension is rooted in your insecurities, my dear."

"Is it?" You questioned rhetorically, sure he was playing mind games yet again. You didn't care to discuss your shortcomings or self-esteem with the likes of him.

He adjusted his coat and posture, smirking and taking one last look at you before turning around and walking back toward the forest beyond the small campsite. He stepped on Emily's cadaver along the way, heavy black boots nearly crushing her head to bits. It was a grotesque image, though you didn't have the gall look away. It was as though his body was magnetic and your eyes were made of aluminum.

"As a final note until we reunite on the eve of the ninth day," he began, head tilted toward the dark, moonless sky, stopping only momentarily. "I quite liked your method of attack." His foot nudged the icicle embedded in the disfigured woman's chest, which elevated the upper portion of her body above the ground. "Impalement is one of the cruelest means of torture. Death comes either instantaneously or minutes later."

"They were not tortured." You snarled, more so to reassure yourself. If he was trying to induce guilt, he was doing an excellent job.

He looked down at his feet once more, deep in thought for more than a minute as you waited. The wind was harsh and the fire that the convicts had lit long before your arrival was now nothing but damp embers. Dark clouds were overpowering the bright rays of the moon, threatening all of the land with more snowfall. You couldn't help but think, then, what a horrid time it was to be a traveler.

Finally, a grin on his face, he glanced back at you. It was a boyish expression, one you had not expected from such a terrifying opponent. When he spoke, his voice was soft, lacking its general gruffness. It was as though you had gotten a glimpse of who Alucard may have been, had he never experienced decades of despair, power, and cruelty. 

"No," he said. "Of course not."

Your mouth opened and your eyes narrowed. He wasn't teasing you; he was being genuine.

"It is this state of mind in which we differ."

And then he was gone, like dust in the wind.

\----------

You awoke with a start as the memory fizzled from your mind. It wasn't uncommon for you to dream of events that had occurred just before turning in. The last bit with Alucard had been less than true, however; you hadn't heard him after taking the lives of those vigilantes. He hadn't materialized before you and encased you in his shadows. This was surely your mind playing up your paranoia and twisting traumatic events. Once you had finished off your would-be assailants, you had said a small prayer before rushing off. You hadn't wanted to stay at the campsite for long, your stomach grossly unsettled from what you had done. Blood had stained the snow. No matter how clean your strikes were, blood was always inevitable. Guts, too, and brain matter from a miscalculated aim. You didn't relish in witnessing such things.

Alucard hadn't halted you, though you were sure he had been keeping a close eye on you in some way, shape, or form during your battle. He wouldn't have interfered unless he felt you had needed him. You knew that you weren't expendable and that he surely wouldn't have wasted an opportunity to save your life at the last second if you had gotten trapped. He might have waited for a short duration before his timely rescue, but he would have come for you. Perhaps your mind had been trying to tell you this with your dream. Nonetheless, you didn't want to dwell on it. Merely being aware of the looming threat lurking in the shadows was enough to spook you to the core.

You hoisted yourself into a sitting position on your bed, skin cold from not having the energy to slip under the covers before passing out. Still, sweat was dripping down your forehead. He had been able to read your thoughts in the dreamscape. Even if it had just been a figment of your imagination, was your unconscious trying to tell you something? Worse, had the dream been fabricated by Alucard and placed into your head? 

It sounded ridiculous despite being a distinct possibility. When you had been in his care at the castle you had felt him prod at the inner workings of your mind a few times, first gently and then aggressively. You had been able to use your magic to block him. Your father had taught you to keep a strong barrier around your mind at all times, so it had been rather simple to do so. As far as you presently knew, he hadn't broken the barrier and thus, he couldn't place dreams or read your thoughts. You weren't privy to all of his techniques but you were quite sure that you would have felt him enter you. He could insult you and your capabilities as much as he wanted; you had an abundance of confidence when it came to knowing your body. If something felt off, even if it was a hint of a tickle in your throat, you could predict what was going on within yourself. It came in handy, being so sensitive to peripheral changes.

After much deduction, you finally chalked the dream up to be a mere figment of your imagination rather than one of Alucard's orchestration. This was good and bad. If he hadn't forced that nightmare into your skull, that meant you had some soul searching to do... as much as you hated to admit it. Searching for meaning in your dreams wasn't like you, but it didn't hurt to try something new. Whatever advantage you could get, you would take. You couldn't have unanswered questions wafting about your head as you fought the ancient being in just a few days. Any awkward emotions were a distraction, as well. Whatever that dream had been trying to express to you had to be examined; you had to come to terms with its meaning to keep a steady focus.

You slipped off of the mattress and entered the washroom. You hadn't showered in days, not had you been able to use a proper washroom. Your breath probably smelled rancid, as well. You figured that you could spare an hour of your limited time grooming yourself back into shape. Turning on the hot water faucet, you watched with appreciation as the liquid busted from the shower head and splashed into the tub below. Awestruck by the simple thought of bathing, you wasted no time peeling the grimy clothes from your body and diving into the fleeting paradise.

There would be plenty of time to think about Alucard and secretive messages from your unconscious mind afterward.

You still felt gross.

The shower had been extremely pleasant, save for having to get out once you had depleted all of the hot water. The unfortunate bit came when you realized that you didn't have any fresh clothing to change into. The clothes you had been wearing for the last little while were caked with sweat and ripped in various areas. Needless to say, you looked a mess. The coat that the criminals had so generously denoted to you thankfully covered most of the damage to your clothing. This surely saved you a multitude of questions. You still caught a few curious eyes gazing your way, but this was to be expected. Though significantly bigger than the previous town near Alucard's crumbled abode, Arad was close-knit. Travelers were welcome, though at their discretion. Some of the townsfolk were rough-looking, likely military personnel or lower tier members of the mafia. You only hoped that Youssef had not led you on a wild goose chase in pursuit of a man who either didn't exist or was nowhere to be found.

You closed the door to your room, zipping up your jacket and adjusting your scarf to brave the elements. You almost dreaded leaving the small comforts of the hotel. Had you not been pressed to seize every single moment and second of the day, you might have taken one extra day to rest. Soon, you told yourself, you would be able to let your guard down, if even for a short time.

You nodded to the man at the front desk as you approached. It was the same person you had dealt with upon your arrival. You knew that you were likely wasting your time, but you thought it would be a good idea to start asking around about your contact.

"Uh, zdravstvujtye."

You greeted him using one of the only Russian phrases you knew. Somewhere out of earshot, you knew that Alucard was chuckling at the dialectic errors you more than possibly made trying to pronounce it. The keeper didn't seem impressed, either. He rose a single bushy grey brow, a judgemental look on his face. He knew from check in that you didn't speak the language.

"Da." He murmured, urging for you to get in with it.

"Dornez?" You inquired without haste, to which he shook his head and promptly left for the back room.

Not surprising. The people here were tight-lipped; they had to trust you in order to share. No outsiders could waltz into the town and learn all of their customs, greet all of their people, and witness all of their practices. You peered beyond the desk and into the back room. It seemed as though the man had decided to take his dinner break -- how convenient.

You shrugged, not discouraged by the difficult start. You would find a lead eventually. Frustrating as it was, you couldn't fault the man or any of the people here for bring overly cautious of strangers. Many cultures were like that. Furthermore, if they were aware of the dangers creeping about and the legends that discussed the existence of Dracula in their land, they would be even less inclined to share. Someone around here would speak with you, you were sure; it was merely a matter of finding them.

"Christoph Dornez," you breathed once again, exiting the establishment and taking a deep breath of fresh air. "I hope you're here."

You weren't but three footsteps from the front door, darkness crawling across a sky of purple and pink hues, when a hound crossed your path. You froze, something you were doing a lot of lately, and stared the animal down. Its eyes were a brilliant shade of grey, rather uncommon for its breed, and its coat was pure black. In fact, this creature resembled the one you had encountered several days prior in a thick wooded area. The harder the dog's eyes bored into you, the more sure you were. It was acting odd and it appeared to be hungry for something more than a slab of meat.

You shuffled closer to it, bending down and placing your hands on its face before it could recoil. It didn't seem terribly bothered by the contact, adding more evidence to your theory. A low growl emitted from its throat as your face drew closer. You knew it wouldn't bite you. He wouldn't dare ruin the face he would have to gaze at for however many years he decided to reign over you.

"Alucard," you grumbled. Just as your dream had predicted, he had appeared before you. "You said nine days."

The dog snarled at you, refusing to speak. This only fueled your rage. It wasn't fair that he had taken this form and revealed himself to you. It was a cheap tactic to throw you off your game. He wanted to ensure his victory over you.

"Listen here, you fuck--"

"Bosco!" Both you and the dog perked up at the name.

The voice was lazy yet authoritative; it was clearly the animal's owner. Bosco wrestled himself from your grip before you could react. Tail wagging and mouth salivating as he sprinted across the cobblestone sidewalk to a man in a small blue jacket and black sweatpants. There was a black baseball hat situated on his head, which looked rather mismatched for the current weather and his thick, wide glasses. His scarf had been pulled downward so that he could project his voice. A scowl was etched across his face.

You gulped, aware of your error. The dog hadn't been Alucard at all, meaning that you had harassed the poor pup for no reason. Paranoia was one hell of a phenomenon.

Bosco's owner knelt down to meet him, rubbing his head affectionately with two gloved hands before connecting his brilliant green eyes with yours. "You lost?"

What a question. It was the sort of inquiry that you could take as either threatening or helpful, though judging from the look on his face...

"You speak English." You commented in slight awe. You hadn't expected someone to greet you in English in the heart of a Romanian town. "Are you a traveller?"

"No," he replied swiftly. "But you are."

No hint of an accent and he was claiming to be from Arad -- this was an eerie encounter.

"I am," you admitted. "I'm looking for someone. Christoph Dornez?"

He looked confused. "Dornez? As in, the renowned occult researcher and technological innovator that more than half of the continent describes as a crazed fool?" 

You blinked. "Uh, sure."

"The same man who was descended from Walter C. Dornez of the Hellsing organization?" He resumed. "He who offers his aid to those in need -- for a price, of course -- out of the goodness of his heart, and sheer motivation to share his abilities with the vulnerable population despite bearing such a cruel public label?"

You wanted to know what sort of drugs this man was consuming to thrust himself into this eccentric style of personality. Nonetheless, as uncomfortable as you were, he seemed to either be Christoph or knew where to find him. You would have to put some degree of faith in him, for now.

"I guess so," you shrugged. "I don't know much about him. I just need his help."

He deadpanned you before ripping off his hat, revealing light brown hair styled in a slicked back undercut to match his short red beard. Bosco didn't appear to be alarmed by his master's behaviour so you were able to keep a calm mind, too, as he stomped across the crunchy snow to stop at your feet. He was so close, you could smell the mint he was chewing without having to strain. You tilted you head up at him.

"You mean to tell me," he whispered. "That you don't know who I am, but you desperately require my aid."

"I didn't say desperate--"

"Enough; come!" He shouted, turning on his heel and treading off with his gallant pet.

You struggled to trot after him, his legs long and his stride monstrously quick. People were glancing at the two of you as they retired into their homes for the evening. If they had needed a reason to distrust you, they had just gotten one.

It dawned upon you that you were rushing after a total stranger at night. Like the group of criminals, he seemed nice enough, though odd, but you knew that the tides could turn without a moment's notice. Perhaps he would try to kidnap you as well, succeeding where the others had fallen short. Fortunately, you could handle yourself in most situations and, as an added bonus, you no longer had anything to lose. If this man didn't get you, a bloodthirsty creep would. In actuality, you thought it would be fortuitous if a mortal ended you over Alucard. At least then, provided the vampire was not lurking close by, you would stay dead. There would be no added years to your consciousness and no threat of immortality.

It wasn't that you were opposed to being immortal; it just was frowned upon amongst the newest generation of your kind. Many believed that surrendering one's life to extend consciousness indefinitely was an indication of reverting back to the old ways, in times when the priests had reigned mercilessly over mortals and other weaker beings. There had been pushes in recent years to reform the image of dragon priests, a major initiative being to lessen traditional malicious ways, such as practicing dark, forbidden magic or pining after the forbidden artes. Elders of your kind additionally encouraged youth to perform good deeds for mortals so that they would see the change in the priests and grow to acknowledge them as allies. It was nice, in a way, to take part in such a pure mission. There was already too much ugliness in the world; adding to it was unbecoming.

There were strict punishments for those who broke the rules. It was decreed in recent years that if a colleague was found conducting an act of terror or seeking out dark practices, such as immortality or making a pact with an otherworldly being, this would allow for complete jurisdiction of the witness to stop the perpetrator by any force deemed necessary. This meant that those who bypassed any standard set by the elder dragon priests would die. These terms were seldom negotiable, from what you had heard from others. Henrick had told you the story of his late master, who had proposed his soul to an ancient being, one known in human fables as a Daedra. He was killed by Henrick and another of his colleagues during the summoning process and just in time. Had your comrades been alive presently, you may have sought them out so that one of them could ensure your eternal end, as well.

Dying to one of them would have been frightening, though you would have graciously accepted it out of principle. You had no control over your life, and thus, you had to be killed. It would have been your safest and most viable option. Some may have called you too loyal to the new reformation for thinking such extremes. It was one thing to forbid immortality; it was another thing to forbid immortality when it was close enough to taste. You knew that some you had previously encountered would have jumped to have your opportunity. They would have went quietly with Alucard, to serve by his side forever. So freely, they would have broken the terms set for all dragon priests, as well as the loyalty of all those close to them. You couldn't bring yourself to do such a thing. Your father had taught you a good deal about disloyalty, by leaving you in the dark during your younger years with your mother, and then loyalty, by taking you under his wing to shape you later in life. You weren't afraid of your beliefs or where you stood, even in the midst of death.

You huffed as you started running to catch up with the man, nearly slipping on the black ice that was hidden beneath the snow. At that moment, you would have also admitted that you didn't want to be turned because it meant you would have to live in Romania, where the weather was as calloused as the people of Arad.

By the time Bosco and his owner stopped, you were in the heart of the still town; it was as though the civilians knew the unspoken hazards of remaining outside during the evening. You stood in front of a small bungalow built from marble and steel. The architectural design was innovative and intelligent; it wasn't like anything you had seen thus far. The rest of the houses in this land had been made of brick or wood. He unlocked the door with a strange key, perhaps one of his making for a special lock he had personally installed. He took precautions; this was good.

"Okay," Christoph breathed. "Let's talk inside. I have a feeling I know what I can help you with, mage. Or do you prefer dragon priest? You all differ in your preferences."

Ushering you into his abode, you made haste, reminding yourself, like a mantra, that you had nothing more to lose.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make a filler chapter not as filler-ey with the dreamscape. Not sure if it worked out. More to come!


	7. Chapter VI: The Freedom

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get some much needed help from someone you blatantly mistrust at first. You're not as safe as you think.

So, mage or dragon priest?"

"(F/n). Let's not break ourselves down to a title before giving our names."

"Straight to the point, ain't'cha?" He hooted. "Y'know I could be someone completely different than who you're looking for and you just gave me your name and came into my house."

You scoffed. "There's something worse than you hunting me."

His pale green eyes, hidden behind bulky glasses, held a sort of understanding, as if he already knew your predicament without you ever having shared it. His youthful face was grim, lips pursed and skin tight. Stopped above the stairway that led to the basement, you felt as though he was probing your mind, much like Alucard had attempted. You couldn't feel him doing so -- it was just a nagging feeling in your gut. Finally, he licked his lips and trailed down the unstable, creaky wooden stairs.

"I have a feeling you're going to lead me to the most danger I'll ever face in my lifetime." He spoke softly.

It was a strange thing to proclaim; it had been genuine and straightforward, albeit unsettling. Even Bosco, the pooch you had embarrassingly mistaken for your foe, seemed to be in a slight state of amiss following. He was probably correct, as much as you dreaded admitting it. It wasn't just anyone on your tail, it was a centuries old villain who butchered people for their blood and had powers of the omnipotent variety. Odd as he was, you doubted Christoph had ever faced an adversary quite like this.

You treaded down the stairs carefully, bracing yourself lest one of the steps gave away beneath your weight. A red light shone in the depths of the basement, making the whole room like akin to a reptile enclosure. An aged, musty smell hit your nostrils, causing your face to wrinkle. When you reached the landing, you took note of how many boxes there were, as well as how many of them bore at least seven layers of dust. Some of them hadn't been opened in years, perhaps even decades. There was a mini fridge in the corner of the room, magazines stacked on top of it. An old, saggy couch sat on moldy wooden legs in front of a small, bulky television set nearby. Christoph didn't seem to mind the mess. In fact, it appeared that he had made the basement his man cave.

"Come in and have a seat," he called, gesturing to the couch.

You elected to take the armchair closest to you, not bothering to peel off your winter gear despite the heat of the house already cooking you. It wasn't like you had anything to conceal yourself with beneath it, anyway. You had meant to search for a small shop that wouldn't miss a few articles of clothing before finding your target. However, like damn near everything else on your journey, that hadn't worked out for you. Perhaps Christoph had a shirt for you somewhere in his den. You would have to ask him once you finished explaining the important bits.

The man of the hour sat on the dusty couch, draping his feet across its cushions and crossing his arms behind his head. He looked more comfortable than you could ever hope to be. You hadn't expected him to be so... relaxed all the time. He surely had to take precautions in numerous aspects of his life, what with his trade and his eccentric demeanor. The way Youssef had spoken of him, you had anticipated encountering an older man, as serious as he was intelligent, rather than someone so youthful and casual in nature.

"So," Christoph prompted, sinking his hand into a bowl of chips on the coffee table and shoveling them into his mouth. "What's up?"

He was speaking to you as if the two of you were longtime friends, just catching up on a quiet Saturday evening.

"Uh, I need this off." You pulled back the sleeve of your jacket, revealing the bracelet that your nemesis had secured to your wrist.

The man sat up at the mere sight of the contraption. His eyes shone with interest and a smidgen of terror as he analyzed it from afar, mouth dropping lower and lower. Goosebumps were on his hands, though not from the cold. Running a hand through his thick locks, he shook his head in awe.

"What sort of a being managed to bend the will of a dragon priest?" He mused absently. "A dragon priest, of all things! You guys are tough. There's something else, too." He made sharp eye contact with you. "I've always wondered why the women are not called dragon priestesses. Perhaps you can explain this to me after you've told me about your assailant."

Your jaw nearly dropped. This man was beyond eccentric, not to mention sporadic and utterly unpredictable. He leapt from topic to topic with such normalcy, as if he expected you to follow his rampant flow of senselessness. It threw you off. Was this intentional?

"You can also explain to me why you don't have a staff. Most of you have staffs. Where is your staff?"

If he said 'staff' one more time, you were going to destroy him. You cleared your throat and nodded halfheartedly, disguising your confusion and frustration with great effort. "Yeah."

"Excellent," he whispered, gesturing you closer. "Let's get a look at it while you start talking."

You made your way over to sit on the couch with Christoph, who gently took your arm in his grasp and peered at the bracelet with a deeply critical eye. He shifted you so that you were torso to torso with him as he twisted and turned your arm, even going so far as to inspect the skin around the device. He claimed that he was searching for any abnormalities, that some ancient artifacts and magical tools could alter an individual's physical appearance over time. You believed him. There were many wicked artifacts in the world from days of old, and Alucard had lived long enough to be able to accumulate at least a few of them.

You explained your situation to your new hope without the same caution you had been using up until this point. You knew that you had to be brutally truthful, even if it meant sharing some unsavory details. You went over your capture and the death of your comrades. You discussed Alucard and Seras, as well as Alucard's sick infatuation with making you his bride. You hesitated when going over the details pertaining to the sexual advances the vampire had made toward you, but you fought through the embarrassment and disclosed your intimate experiences. Fortunately, if the man had been phased by your confessions, he hadn't shown it. This was reassuring.

"Well, first thing's first," he began slowly. "Youssef...?"

You supposed that this would be one of his first inquiries. You had glossed over Youssef's death, which Alucard had confessed to, in an attempt to keep the conversation focused. This had been a sort of calloused move on your part; you should have told him about his friend to start. Now, it would sound like the friendly barkeep was a mere afterthought.

"He was killed." You confessed with sad eyes. "Alucard's doing."

Christoph felt a hurricane of horrible emotions surge within him at such sorrowful news. Nevertheless, he maintained eye contact with you and urged the conversation on. He would have adequate time to mourn later.

"Ever figure out why he's so entranced with you?" He asked as he placed your arm down and gave you his full attention.

You were rather shocked about his dismissive attitude, but you also knew better than to judge s book by its cover. Just because the man wasn't showing any emotion at all, didn't mean that he wasn't broken. If he wanted to continue to stay focused on the dangers at hand, you would oblige him; it was the least you could do.

"Honestly," you huffed, clicking your tongue. "I thought it was because I'm a dragon priest. That's sort of what he had eluded to. I'm an attractive, young dragon priest, so why wouldn't he want me as his bride?" You huffed. "Over time, I realized there was more to it than that. He had been watching me for a while, longer than just the day he had kidnapped me and killed my friends.

"I think it started with wanting a dragon priest, specifically, as a bride. In his dungeon, he told me of stories he'd heard about some of the most horrifying priests. I think he wanted someone with potential, someone he could use as a weapon, if needed." You took a deep breath and shrugged. "He started to feel things the more I resisted."

"You became a conquest." Christoph murmured. "Something he had to force to its knees."

"So it's not just because of what I am."

Your new accomplice shook his head. "Can't be. I'm not saying that the whole dragon priest bit isn't a thing, but I'm having a difficult time believing that the obsession came about due to that."

You hummed, unsure. "He said that dragon priests were his type once, at the very beginning."

"Like I said, I'm sure it helped that you were a dragon priest. Ever heard of attachment disorders? It sounds like he formed a loose attachment toward you based solely on your appearance. If he had been hunting for a dragon priest, this was probably why he chose to pursue more information on you."

"Hey, no, wait," you shook your head in disbelief. "I don't have enough renown for him to have known who I was."

"It didn't matter if you were renowned or not," Christoph countered. "It mattered that you fit the basic profile he was looking for: pretty and a dragon priest."

Your cheeks burned at the thought of Alucard watching you without your knowledge. In your heart, it angered you that he had slipped through your radar and learned about you behind your back. You hadn't even had the chance to prepare, and if what Christoph said was true, this was all because you had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. If you hadn't been in the same area as him, if he had never laid his greedy, lustful red eyes on you, you would have never been captured. You would still be roving the lands with your team, doing good, expanding yourself, and living a semi-structured, carefree life, if he hadn't decided that you were made to be his. Fate was a cold bitch.

"This is unsettling." You confessed. 

"Sure is. The point I'm trying to make is that Hellsing's old Trump card seems to be rather obsessed with you. You must have grown on him."

"Do you think it's because he was lonely?" You wondered, one of many hypotheses in your head.

Christoph threw his hands in the air, eyes closed and head laid back against the couch. He groaned lowly before responding with a lazy pull of his shoulders. It seemed as though he had his work cut out for him. Perhaps he had been correct to say that you would bring danger into his life. You both knew the magnitude of the situation; your lives were at stake.

"I have to figure out how to remove it." He said finally.

You blinked. "You don't know how?"

"No. In theory, I know how. In theory, it's easy. In practicality, I'm fucked." He responded, reaching into a nearby bowl and grabbing a handful of chips. "I don't know how to do it, and if I try, there's a risk of you dying."

"Dying...?" You hated that you had been put in this situation.

"I mean, " the man started, cramming chips into his mouth and munching. "It's ancient technology. Can't be too careful. Might be a tracking device in it, too, which is why this is a time-sensitive situation."

"I don't know about the tracking device. One of the rules is that I can't involve anyone else in this game of his. If he knew where I was and what I was trying to do, I think he would have reactivated the bracelet by now."

You didn't know what amount of power the bracelet was packing, though you were quite sure that Alucard didn't know your exact location. A stickler for the rules -- or at least, that was how you perceived him -- you didn't think that he would let you talking to another man about escaping from him go. Much like he had killed your comrades on a swift whim, not long Henrick had confessed his feelings for you, he would have swept in well before you and Christoph had entered his bungalow.

That said, hadn't he forced you to tell him your intentions in Arad the night he had caught and nearly turned you? And what of Youssef? Alucard could read the thoughts of others with less protective abilities than you. The man could have left his thoughts open for the vampire, where Alucard would have learned the name of Christoph. You didn't know if Youssef had been a mortal, but you hadn't been able to sense any strong magic coursing through him. There was a very good chance that your enemy knew of who you had been seeking since the very beginning of this game.

Your eyes shifted to Christoph, suddenly distrusting him. It was a smart move to shapeshift into a man with such a contrasting personality to his own, just as it would have been a smart move to transform into nothing but a mangy mutt. Bosco certainly wasn't anything more than a dog, but Christoph...

"How do I know you are who you say you are?"

The brunette looked perplexed at your sudden change in demeanor. "Oh, so now it matters. I literally told you when we first came in--"

"That you could be someone completely different than who I'm looking for." You finished. "I remember."

He blinked. "Then back to my previous point -- why does it matter now? Aren't I proving that I know my shit and can help you with all of this Dracula business?"

You ran your fingers across your sweaty scalp, clenching your teeth and shaking with uncertainty. "I-I don't know... You're too... uh, too easygoing. And willing! Like, you just met me and you want to help? For nothing? I can't... I just can't believe that. He knows you. He knows I was coming here to meet you. He's fast -- he definitely arrived here first.

You were pacing back and forth across the length of the room at the time of the last syllable in your monologue, (e/c) orbs shining with tears and poor little heart pounding hard against your chest. Christoph was gazing at you with knowledgeable eyes. He knew what a mental breakdown looked like, having had more than his share. Not the type of man to show much emotion, he knew that he was a little out of his element with this one. He had kept to himself for many years prior to this fateful meeting, clients only visiting his doorstep when they needed to speak with him directly. He didn't have any friends or colleagues, learning from his scholar mother that friends and family members only jeopardized dreams and personal safety in the occult profession. These were the prices of both sanity and satisfying the desire to help others with issues beyond the mortal realm.

He knew that he couldn't leave you to your devices at the moment, but he additionally was unsure as to how he could help. Surely anything that flew from his mouth would be blunt and unintentionally scathing, and you didn't know him well enough to understand that he really didn't mean to come off as a jerk. No one did, for that matter. 

"Didn't you say you meet him in the forest, after killing those traffickers?" He inquired.

He hoped that this would be enough to quell your anxiety, to know that he and his dog were just trying to make a living off of helping those in odd predicaments. He could see clearly where your concern came from, recalling from your explanation of encountering the beast disguised as a stray dog lost in the woods. Alucard could be anywhere and anyone. He should have expected this outburst, actually, as your initial meeting had come about due to threats made toward poor Bosco, who you had mistaken to be a centuries-old vampire.

Christoph glanced at his furry companion thoughtfully. He had had Bosco for years. The pooch had the heart to protect those he loved, but he barely had the stomach to harm perpetrators. He was as tranquil as he was hungry on a consistent basis.

"And besides, I don't do charity work. You'll pay me after I help you." He pressed, hoping you could see rationality at this point. You mentioned that you had finally slept in a real bed earlier today, though he wasn't sure you had slept as adequately as you thought. You seemed delusional as well as paranoid, and if that was the case then nothing he said would make sense to you.

You shook your head and pointed an accusing finger his way, eyes narrowed and crazed. "Listen, I don't want this to be an elaborate scheme, but Alucard is the type to play with his prey. Throughout his reign, as a human and a vampire, he's been cruel. It's exactly like him to get my hopes up and then show up unexpectedly to dash them. That's the fucking point of all this."

Yes, the point of this game was so that he could play with his food before consuming it. He wanted you to know that he could manipulate and control your life without your consent or knowledge. He wanted you to fear him, to submit to him because that was the only logical thing you could do. How Christoph had approached you, how he had led you to his home hastily, how accepting he was -- it wasn't sitting well with you. On one hand, many strangers you had spoken to thus far had been exceptionally kind, albeit odd, like the man who had given you supplies for your journey to Arad. It was equally possible that Christoph was merely a kind occultist who had dedicated his lifetime to assisting the needy. You weren't sure how to tell what his true intentions were.

"The point is to get you to trust someone, only to find that the person you've started trusting is this vampire in disguise?" Christoph scoffed. "That's kind of fucking dumb."

His body language was relaxed, the exact opposite of yours. He had to appear in a state of calmness if he wanted you to listen to him. The spiralling you were doing was normal for your circumstances, but it was getting in the way of a resolution. Defusing it, however, would be tricky.

"How?" You snapped. "I make perfect sense. You refuting my point even makes perfect sense."

"You sound like one of those conspiracy theorists. You know, the type that believe in flat Earth theory and the people who rely on essential oils before empirically-tested medications."

This was why he didn't have many friends; he sure had away with words. You were fuming now more than you were suspicious. It was only a marginal improvement.

You stomped over to the man at lightning speed and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. You noticed the surname in beautiful black calligraphy on his arm as his shirt rode up. His glasses still straight on his face, his green eyes lacked the rage you thought he'd have toward you. If this was Alucard, he surely would have turned the tables on you by now. He wasn't one to be shown up, even when he was masquerading as someone else. You didn't want to accept that Christoph was telling the truth just yet, nonetheless; there wasn't enough evidence and you had to be sure.

"You didn't show any empathy when I told you my trials with him." You snarled. "Even when I told you he tried to force himself on me."

Christoph gulped, knowing his socially awkward emotionality would be brought up at some point. He wasn't quite sure how to explain such a thing away. It was something he had always struggled with, expressing emotion, and he was the utmost selective when choosing who he was vulnerable with. That said, your situation was dire and he had already invested time into your story. He felt that it was more than his duty to assist you back to sanity, where you could at least hope to have even a smidgen of security.

"Would you like me to tell you about myself? Maybe that way, you can--"

"You could be lying through your teeth. I don't trust people who don't react to things with empathy. You don't even try to hide that you don't care."

Damn. You were really obsessing over the emotional response thing. To be fair, he could have shown you more sympathy. It was just, after so long of hearing about the same, tragic things, he had grown numb. Physical abuse in his younger years had forced him into a dark place for years. It wasn't at all that he didn't care about the plight of others; he cared deeply, perhaps even too much. Unlike other empaths, however, he could control his outward expression and inner urge to tirelessly assist by any means necessary.

It upset him that you thought he was heartless, but like always, he reassured himself that it was because you didn't know him.

"Is Alucard like this?" He asked, trying to dig deeper into your thought process as a tactic to fully comprehend your anxiety. If he could understand it, he could tackle it.

"Of course he is, he's an ancient vampire," you muttered, rolling your eyes. "Honestly, I'd respect him if I didn't know him so personally."

"Yeah, but that's kind of messed up--"

"He's always one step ahead of everyone because he's a fucking time lord or something."

"Those don't exist, but I see what you--"

"There's no way to beat him! Do you hear me, Alucard!?" You turned to face Christoph, now alert and on his feet a few metres from you. "Do you hear me...?"

"You know who you sound like? There was this crackhead around the corner of my house a few--"

You shot an ice pellet at him with no remorse, which he dodged with a mere tilt of his head and stoic eyes. He really didn't want to harm you, but if you persisted he would have to use his magic for the first time in months to subdue you. From there, if you didn't surrender... No. He wouldn't have to go further than that. You were drifting from sanity but you weren't completely gone.

"You're joking, right?" He huffed, agitated. "You're throwing ice at me in my own home?"

You paused for a moment, contemplating your most recent action. Sure, it had been rash, but had you been rude for attempting to hurt a man in his own home? If Christoph was truly Alucard, then no, but if he was who he claimed to be, then you had made a nearly fatal error.

"There's more where that came from," you strategically threatened.

You wouldn't really hurl more magic at the man, of course... at least, not until you were sure of whom you were speaking to. If this was Alucard, then he would mobilize soon. He knew that you did not hesitate to kill, and though he believed you to be far weaker than him, you could still put a dent in his health. 

"I'm not as skilled as a dragon priest, but during my studies at the college, they called me a genius." Christoph boasted, readying himself for a battle he did not want to have. Perhaps he had been wrong about you; perhaps you weren't as strong-willed as he thought.

"You went to the college?" You rose a brow curiously.

When Youssef had first told you about Christoph and your hope in Arad, you had thought him to be a mage. It appeared your hunch had been correct. If he had gone to the mage's college in Germany, the same one that had accepted your skillset with open arms, then he was one skilled mortal. You wanted to learn more.

He nodded. "I did; eight years ago. Can you guess how old I was?"

You shrugged. "Sixteen?"

"Fuck, no... but I appreciate you thinking I look young." He cracked a smile at that. "I was twenty-three."

"You're... thirty-one?"

He looked great for his age. You weren't sure if it was magic or good genes. There were no wrinkles to be found on his face, nor could you spot a silver hair. He wore thick lenses, but you had known people much younger than him with worse prescriptions.

Adjusting his glasses, he allowed himself to let his guard down for a fraction of a minute. "I don't act my age; had to grow up fast. Most people think I'm still a kid with my mannerisms."

You acknowledged this confession, the man before you finally starting to make sense. You could understand the pains of growing up and having painful periods in life. When your mother had died of cancer, you had been forced to watch her wither away. You had been worried about housing, food, and education up until your father had appeared. Those times had been dark. Christoph could likely relate to such things, seeming to be a loner for most of his life due to immature antics and a dampened desire to socialize.

"Sorry to hear that." You grumbled, though when he looked at you with an amused expression you almost regretted saying anything.

"Don't be! Sure, it fucking sucks, but I'm fine. I get to have more fun like this, anyway."

"The intelligence doesn't get in the way of the fun?" You asked with a smirk, to which he grimaced.

"Sure does." He mumbled. "And then I tell it to fuck off."

You laughed, letting down your guard just long enough for Christoph to rush toward you, taking the small window he had to crash his body against yours and grab your wrist before you could object. He scrutinized the bracelet one last time before grasping it in his hand and focusing extreme cold into it. A specialist in water and ice magic, he would use his strengths to decipher the device. By the time you were able to gather yourself, the your wrist felt as though it was bring pressured more than usual but the constructing metal clamped tightly against your bone.

"What are you doing!?" You cried, not ripping your arm from him just yet. He had shifted all of his attention to the ancient contraption and you didn't want to distract him. If you jerked your arm the wrong way at the wrong time, there was a chance that he could accidentally amputate your appendage, leaving you at more of a disadvantage than when you had sprained your ankle during your initial capture.

"Shut up and let me work." He hissed.

Once the bracelet got to about -1537 degrees Celsius, after about three minutes of silent compliance, you felt the metal begin to quiver. You were in awe with how skilled the man was. In just a few seconds, he had forced you to let your guard down simply in response to him letting his guard down. From there, he had used the element of surprise, much like when you had rushed Alucard during the first phase of your fight as a distancing tactic. Except, instead of distancing, Christoph had used the rash technique to get close to you. Once he had your wrist in his grasp, he had immediately focused an enormous amount of ice magic into it while simultaneously protecting your skin. You hadn't met many mortal mages who had possessed the skills to do both of these; they generally only knew how to freeze things. You were growing ever more interested in deciphering the eccentric man.

When the device finally cracked, Christoph wasted no time in ripped it off of your skin and throwing it across the room. The point of super freezing it had been to fry any circuits or mechanisms that could make it explode upon forced removal. He wasn't sure if that was one of it's mechanisms, but he also wasn't one to take chances with someone less than expendable -- specifically, this meant anyone but him. Had this been his own body, he might have been ballsy enough to tinker with it a little more.

You both stood tensely, watching for five, six, and ten minutes for the thing to blast. When the clock in the corner of the room reached fifteen minutes after removal, your shoulders started to relax. Reality was sinking in -- the reality that you were one step closer to being a free woman. The bracelet had been taken off and you could no longer be tracked or restricted. If Alucard wanted to control you now, he would have to make an appearance.

You turned to look at your new accomplice, lips pursed and jaw clenched. You had a lot to apologize for, starting with your escalated hysteria. He met your gaze, thick glasses not able to hide the snarky attitude he was waiting to unleash. He barely seemed bothered standing next to you, knowing that you had flung a piece of ice at him less than half an hour ago. You cleared your throat before speaking.

"I'm sorry I thought you were Dracula."

He tilted his head to the ceiling and laughed briefly. "Don't be; I'm flattered. At the same time, I accept your apology. Can we make a rule now?"

You grunted, not impressed with him or yourself, too deeply engulfed in shame. The more you caught yourself slipping, the more haunted you felt.

"No magic in the house." He stated firmly.

"Deal."

"Unless absolutely necessary, of course." He smirked cheekily.

"Agreed."

The brunette gestured for you to come and sit back down with him. You obliged, but not before giving yourself a mental beating. You believed in precaution, but what you had just inflicted on the innocent man who you had anticipated to be your nemesis had been over the line. After being in the wilderness for days on end, with nothing but yourself to keep sane, you had been elated to encounter others around a warm campfire. Perhaps the events of that night did more damage than you had thought.

You had looked at it as a necessity, killing them because they had intended on harming you. It had almost been triggering, to hear of their plans to sell you on the sex slave trade market. Like Alucard, they had thought themselves to be stronger than you. Looking back, you may have gone overboard there, too, impaling them all instead of firing a few warning shots and telling them to leave. That incident, still fresh, must have further influenced your ability to trust. Had Christoph not dodged your ice, you would have taken his head off. You were fortunate that he was so forgiving. From what you were learning about him, however, he seemed to have been around volatile people numerous times in the past. He had been capable enough to determine your mental state and make the right call, rushing you unexpectedly only after he had gotten you to ease up. Had he merely charged straight away, you would have been able to reflexively escape, potentially killing him in the process. He was well practiced in his trade, as well as with people.

"So, the bracelet didn't blow up." He said after a pregnant period of silence, sitting down on his musty couch. "Surprised?"

You shook your head, taking a seat next to him. "I guess not. I didn't really know what to expect. Is there any way to tell what sort of abilities the bracelet had, or where it came from?"

"Sure, but that would take days, and that's a lot of time you don't have. What's your plan now that your life knows no borders?"

That was a splendid question.

"And while you're at it, there are a few other questions I have for you, such as why they don't call women who are dragon priests dragon priestesses, and why you don't have a staff as a weapon."

This man was a regular chatterbox. He asked the type of questions that even you, a dragon priest, had never considered the answers to.

"I can tell you right now, I don't know why we aren't called dragon priestesses. Maybe it's because dragon priests have been and still are traditionally male."

He nodded, absorbed.

"As to why I don't have a staff, I chose not to bring it on the final mission with my colleagues." You explained. "It was my father's, and I thought the goal would be simple enough to achieve without it."

"That was an oversight, eh?"

You smirked. It certainly had been.

You were still kicking yourself for buying into Seras' charade. You hadn't even bothered to figure her out before roving off with her and leaving your teammates for dead. Whether she knew it at the time it not, she had appealed to your emotions that evening; you hadn't wanted her to lose something that reminded her of her mother. A part of you wished that you could go back in time with your personality and caution now, so that you would have felt less obligated to help a mysterious stranger. You had learned a lot about blind trust this past while, from Seras, to the campers, to Christoph Dornez. Christoph was the only one to prove non-fatal to you thus far. It was clear that you had been too lenient regarding those you chose to keep in your company.

In an attempt to divert your attention from catastophizing further down the rabbit hole, you looked at your accomplice. You had answered his pressed questions, and now it was time for him to answer yours.

"So, Dornez?" You inquired. "I know of your relative, Walter, from Hellsing before its fall. I never met him, but some of my comrades had great respect for him."

"Yeesh; not sure why."

You could understand his distaste for the man. Walter C. Dornez had been fierce in his youth, and had continued to pack a punch in his older years. Legends refer to him as the Angel of Death, and rightfully so; it was said that he contributed to the downfall of Millennium, though also to their sudden uprising during World War II and again in the late 1960s. It's said that Dornez made a deal with prime members of Millennium and kept alive some of their top tier people during the war, so that they would be able to enact their dastardly plans in later years. The plan had been to strike in the late 1990s, but they were in danger of being foiled. With the help of Iscariot, a section of the Vatican, they started their reign of terror, which Dornez helped perpetuate by facing off against Alucard.

Millennium had conducted tests on Dornez by that time, giving him the gift of youth as he faced off against his former comrades in a futile attempt to vanquish Alucard. The best part was, he had come very close to doing so. Alucard had killed Dornez moments before supposedly dying, himself. Witnesses long since quieted had claimed that the ageless vampire had accidentally consumed some sort of toxic blood, causing him and all of the life force he had absorbed from the deceased to withdraw into the Hellsing family seal. Some said he died then and there, while others speculated that he had merely transferred himself to another realm within the seal to heal from the toxicity. As you knew, the latter had been correct. He had disappeared for a few years before re-emerging before Sir Integra, who had just started ignoring the symptoms of her illness. He served by her side for a year or so more before she passed.

Then, the rest was history. He resurrected his castle in Romania from its remnants and pushed out all mortals nearby, save for the village you had found temporary refuge in. You still weren't sure why. Perhaps he liked having a kingdom.

"So you didn't start studying magic and the occult to follow in his footsteps?" You asked sarcastically.

Christoph adorned a sour expression. "Christ, no. He was family, but I never met him. From what my mom told me, he kind of turned out to be an asshole. He wasn't a mage, either. If he had been, he wouldn't have been so petrified of death. He was a coward at the very root of himself for surrendering his body to Nazis in favour of eternal youth and power."

"You mages have ways to subdue aging too, right?" You inquired, moving away from the topic of his deceased relative.

Christoph nodded. "They're not as good at yours. That said, even if we knew how to cast your anti-aging magic, we wouldn't be able to use it. Too complex. You guys have it in your genes to be able to cast spells beyond our wildest dreams."

"Definitely." You acknowledged. "But even we can't defy death. We can delay aging, but after a while it catches up to us. That's why some of us appear young when we die."

He smirked. "It's like cosmetic surgery."

You giggled, never thinking of it that way. It was a tad deeper than cosmetic surgery, of course, as the magic you used slowed your aging process as well as made you appear younger. You had met dragon priests who had been nearly two-hundred years old, though they looked like a young adult. Many of them claimed to cast youth-defying spells because they wanted to continue living as time transcended, gathering more and more knowledge until they could no longer escape their fate. You believed it was really because they were horrified of dying. You certainly were, and your comrades had shared your sentiments. Not even your kind knew what came after the last breath.

There were myths detailing beings called Daedra governing souls in the afterlife. Novel religions had even sprouted up over the years, dedicated to the teachings of Daedric lords and princes. Some mortals had even claimed to have met Daedric beings, and there were ancient weapons stored safely in museums across the world providing evidence for their existence. Still, you weren't sure. You supposed you would only know once you died... as long as you stayed dead. Such a morbid, nihilistic thought brought you back to the present.

"You asked me about my plans earlier: I want to get out of Romania. He knows these lands well, and that's an advantage I don't have."

Christoph rose a brow. "What region would you have an upper hand in?"

This was a good point. Alone, you were an unlikely match for him, and he had spent many more years on this planet than you. He had explained how much he loved traveling during one of your first few meetings. 

"Somewhere where there's people who can help me. Vampire hunters or something. I know there are some here, as they've probably tracked him to Romania, but I'm not sure they can help." You rationalized.

You thought that the hunters nearby were capable; they would have to be for them to maintain such a taxing profession. Nevertheless, you wanted to seek out the best of the best. In London, England, or in Munich, Germany, you knew you would find someone who was strong and cunning enough to back you up during your battle with Dracula. You felt strongly about gathering comrades in these regions more than others.

"Okay - hear me out before you make a firm decision on whether or not to leave." The brunette said calmly. "I'm about to tell you information that could jeopardize me further, but I figure we've both proved to be dependable people at this point."

You nodded expectantly. You supposed that the two of you had developed an understanding in the short time you had spent with each other.

"There are people here who are looking to destroy Alucard. They've done research. Shit, some of them are descended from members of Hellsing, like me, except they actually gave a shit when their loved one died."

This wasn't necessarily surprising to you. You had expected Alucard to have some enemies, though the prospect of having aid nearby was enticing. You allowed the man to continue, keen on completely hearing him out.

"They've consulted with me regarding what sort of techniques could be used against him; we've been working together for months. I think that they have a strong chance of defeating him, but bear in mind that I don't know exactly what he's capable of. None of us do." He sighed, rising from the couch and pacing the same way you had during your panic attack.

"We don't know how strong he's gotten since his release from Integra's family seal. We don't know what his aspirations are. We aren't even sure why he decided to return to Romania and resurrect a new fortress from the remains of his old castle." He stopped and smirked at you, a dark glint in his eye. "That's where you come in."

You blinked and tried to grasp onto every word that had left his mouth. Was he asking you for information regarding Alucard's strength and abilities? You had already intended on helping Christoph with any questions he had regarding your nemesis, but now you could use it as leverage.

"Before I agree, I want to meet these hunters." You demanded. "This needs to be an even give and take, and like you mentioned earlier, I don't have much time. If I don't feel like they can help me, I need to move on."

You were willing to take a miniscule chance, as it might pay off better for you than fleeing the country. The hunters, if anything, could have some additional advice about evading or harming Alucard. You felt good about this decision to meet with them, in your heart, though nervous in general.

"Sure thing, fair enough." He agreed, much to your delight. "There are four of them. I'll have to send a raven to request a meeting, and you'll have to meet with them alone."

"Secretive." You said, admiration in your voice. It was a good sign that they were taking effective precautions.

Christoph sighed, adjusting his glasses. "Have to be. You gonna be okay here alone for a few minutes while I go set it all up?"

You nodded. "I guess."

If anything were going to happen, it would happen when Christoph walked out the door. You were bracing yourself.

"At least you have a guard dog." He joked, looking around the room for the pooch as he made his way toward the staircase. "Wherever he is."

\----------

Bosco walked along the cobblestone path toward the nearest hotel; it wasn't very far. The night air felt cool against his fur, pumping energy through his being as he picked up the pace to reach his destination. The farther he went from Christoph's care, the more his body changed shape, morphing into a twisted array of physical traits. His cold, black eyes slowly drooped and his mouth upturned as his face shaped into something far more bloodthirsty than the mug of a common house pet. His stature grew as his tattered tail wagged excitedly, legs extending and body bulking. This wasn't the same dog Christoph had adopted; that animal no longer existed as an independent soul.

The deformed creature watched as the hotel keeper stepped out of the main lobby for a quick smoke. His moment to strike was now; there was no need for the man to even dread his arrival. The shadow treading along beneath the beast jutted forward, slicing the target through his chest. Carefully, the blackness surrounded the fresh corpse as it ooze, the man's mouth wide open as he twitched, blood trickling from his lips. In mere seconds, he had lived, died, and gotten consumed, only to be reborn when needed. The shadows claimed a new soul as they feasted on every crevice of the body, refusing to halt even as they flowed back into their master.

And then the night was quiet.

The hotel keeper was dead, but another soul wafting within him, to be used at his disposal. This was an essential step, albeit tedious. He hadn't planned on murdering any of the townspeople except those who got in his way. The hotel keeper, though rude, had kept his distance from you; normally, this would have been a wise decision. Nonetheless, plans changed and he had to be adaptive to such. In order to serve a purpose much grander than his former life, the man would spend his undead life being a voice of reason to a woman who could not accept her fate.

The creature that had taken on the persona of the lowly dog, Bosco, grinned crookedly, shifting back into a form that was more acceptable before turning on his heel and trotting off. In the distance, he heard Christoph calling out to him. With only a little more time left until Alucard could obtain his prize, he figured he could afford to play the role of a pure, innocent thing for a little longer.


	8. Chapter VII: The Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sexual tension triangle featuring a mage and a vampire. What could go wrong? Plenty when they're residing in the same house as you.

You weren't expecting to wait just three hours to meet these highly esteemed hunters. You would have waited six at most, predicting that they would need a minimum of four hours to prepare for the meeting. Between precautions and fact checking, you were sure they didn't just grant meetings with strangers on a whim. You were positive that Christoph had highlighted the urgency of the situation and vouched for you. It was also a situation that they could not ignore, should they be dedicated to destroying Dracula. You were a cesspool of knowledge to them as much as they were a force of courage for you.

Christoph had offered up his guest room to you for as long as you remained in Arad, a thoughtful gesture that could end his life if you chose to dawdle. You wouldn't stay for long in the town unless the hunters could help you. You were aware of how possessive your abuser was. Even if you and Christoph weren't romantically involved with each other, he would make it a point to destroy him before he took you away. You reminded yourself consistently that it was in his nature to be savage in his actions. This did not excuse them, however. Becoming a vampire hadn't shaped him into this, nor had anything in his human life. It wasn't innate -- his behaviour was a choice framed falsely as a necessity.

If all went awry and you were forced to succumb to him for your existance, you decided that you would try to bargain with him in order to spare Christoph's life. Knowing Alucard, it probably wouldn't work but you didn't want him to end up like poor Youssef. Had you known that Alucard would come for the bartender, you may have stayed behind to defend him. Alas, you had been too wrapped up in your own business to see past your selfish nature of involving others in your dangerous plight. 

'No more.' You thought defiantly.

This chase was causing you to become calloused. You had killed the traffickers and flung an ice spike at someone who had been trying to help you. Driven by your suspicions, you had acted brash in both scenarios. The campers had certainly had it coming; you could rationalize your murderous acts regarding them. Christoph was a different story. It had been effortless to merely swing a sharp object at him, as if killing him would have meant nothing. What would you have felt if the attack had been fatal? Would you have grieved over yet another if your actions, or would you have continued to stew in your paranoia and self-justified aggression? It had been fortunate that he had survived, as the tumultuous encounter had jutted you back to reality upon its climax. You learned that it was okay to harden yourself as a defence mechanism, but not at the expense of others. You realized now that all the people you interacted with were in peril simply because of the ancient who relentlessly pursued you; running away wouldn't change that. Running away would only result in more pointless deaths. In the end, you could fight alongside them with the possibility of saving their lives, or you could turn away and let them die. This wasn't the sort of choice you had ever wanted to make.

Sighing, you sat uncomfortably on your own in the small, musty room. For whatever reason, the eccentric man had painted the walls dark red, like blood. Most of the furniture in the room were made of wood and there was a small wood stove in the corner, its pipe extending out of a curated space above the window for ventilation. You didn't want to notice the spiderwebs that were around it. The mattress and its sheets were musty and had been caked with dust upon your arrival. It was evident that Christoph didn't have guests often. Nevertheless, it would do; you were happy just to have a free, warm place to sleep. Still, you couldn't ignore the atrocious decor.

Downstairs, you could hear the man of the hour lurking around in his basement, trying to find what he had called essential tools for fucking up a vampire; you didn't really know what that meant. At the door of your temporary room, Bosco sat and wagged his tail happily. Looking back, you couldn't believe you had suspected the pooch to be your enemy. You were exceptionally receptive to energies and he had given off such a peculiar one. It hadn't helped that Alucard had disguised himself as an animal at one point. Once learning that he was Christoph's pet, the energy made sense. The man, himself, exuded an aura that went beyond his calling as a mage. It was odd, to say the least.

Smiling, you gestured for the dog to come over for a well deserved pat on the head. The canine hesitated, tilting his head to the side cutely before trotting toward you. You grinned, giggling as you rubbed your hands through his coarse fur. You hadn't grown up with pets, your mother forbidding them due to lack of funds. Your father had owned a cat as his familiar and you had loved little Harold. Getting an animal companion had crossed your mind in adulthood once or twice, but you hadn't ever committed to the idea. It was nice to be able to enjoy the company of a dog.

"You're so cute," you gushed softly. "I love you."

Bosco perked up at this, seeming to understand that you cared for him greatly. In response, he placed his head on your lap. You chuckled again, gently scratching behind his ears before ushering him off of you so that you could stand. At the head of the mattress sat a pile of clothes that Christoph had scrounged up for you. They had belonged to a past lover, strangely enough, and they looked to be just your size. The man was an utter pack rat, but you were grateful for it this time. It would feel nice to peel off your filthy garments, hop in the shower, and change into some fresh clothes. You weren't sure what would possess him to keep clothing from someone long gone, but you supposed you would have time to ask him a host of questions on your journey.

A few towels were folded neatly and placed by your door. The bathroom was down the hall, but since the man was too busy raving at his belongings and rustling about downstairs, you figured you would take your clothes off in the comfort of your room and stride out in a towel. You couldn't bear to be stewing in your own body odor and dried blood any longer.

You shedded your winter jacket immediately, followed by your shirt. Bosco stared up at you contently, wagging his tail rapidly. Smirking, you nudged the dog's bum with your foot. It was weird, having a set of eyes on you as you changed, even if it was just an animal watching.

"Go on, Bosco," you urged. "Get out for now."

The dog didn't budge.

You frowned. "C'mon."

In an act of protest, the canine curled up at your feet and huffed in annoyance. You sighed in defeat at the defiant gesture, giving up on removing him from the room. He was just as stubborn and dramatic as his owner; there was no use in pushing it. In the end, you would concede to a goddamn dog, though you maintained that it was still better than conceding to an entitled vampire.

You turned around at the very least, working on unhooking your bra, but failing at every attempt. The last time you had put it on, you had noticed the hooks starting to decay and become entangled. You supposed that they had gotten worse. If this kept up, you would have to slide your upper torso out of the undergarment rather unceremoniously. Gritting your teeth, you tried one more time before growling angrily; another little thing that wouldn't go your way. You felt as though you had inherited the worst luck in the world.

On that thought, you heard excited footsteps near your room from the hallway, and by the time they arrived the clasps on your bra broke apart. The piece of intimate clothing whipped across the room and left you completely exposed to the owner of the house. For a moment, you were too mortified to move, let alone shift your body away from the man's lingering eyes. He did his best not to stare, but goddamn, you could tell he hadn't seen a woman's body in a while. You couldn't fault him for peering at you with a sort of interest in his eyes; he wasn't bad to look at either. Nonetheless, when the shock value wore off enough for you to move, you lunged to cover your upper half with your jacket.

"I-I'm sorry...!" You gasped finally. "I thought you were--"

Christoph shook his head frantically. "No, no -- my fault. You said you were going to shower, but I thought that you already had, and I--"

"No, it's my fault for leaving the door open. It's just that Bosco--"

"Bosco!" The flustered man exclaimed in an attempt to de-escalate the ordeal. "That dog has been acting weird since you got here. He's never this affectionate."

"He's a great dog!" You responded equally as loud. "Love him!"

And then the room went semi-silent, neither human sure of what to do next and the animal thumping his tail rapidly against the wooden floor. The brunette looked as though he wanted to leave but wasn't sure if he ought to, whereas you appeared to be awkwardly searching for a way to successfully dispel the tension.

"Um," you started dumbly. "Well, I think I'm going to go shower now. If you don't mind."

"Please!" The man said boisterously, taking that as his cue to turn on his heel and exit the room as quickly as possible. "Meet me downstairs when you're done."

You belted out something that sounded akin to yes before scrambling to gather the towels and darting down the hallway. Upon entering the large bathroom, you exhaled, pressing your back against the white door and allowing your body to slide downward. That had been one of the most awkward moments of your life, factoring out your time as Alucard's captive. You retired a shaky hand to your chest and felt your heartbeat start to slow, closing your eyes for a moment of peace.

How long had it been since a man had seen you naked, once again excluding your enemy? The last time you had given into your carnal instincts had been years ago, you life far too busy for things like sex. With Alucard, you had felt vulnerable when bare before him, though with Christoph it had been different. You had almost forgotten what it was like to be viewed consensually, albeit randomly, by someone you wanted to see you. Your new comrade was attractive and kind. You didn't have any feelings beyond those implicated in lust and friendliness, but it didn't matter. The fact remainder that you certainly wouldn't have turned the man away if he had propositioned you.

A light blush formed on your cheeks. Though physiologically aroused from the abruptness of the last five minutes, you felt more relaxed than you had in weeks. You were thinking about things like sex and lust again, allowing your mind to wander beyond war tactics for once. Perhaps you would grace yourself with a few extra moments alone in the shower. 

As you got to your feet slowly, rubbing your freed wrist, you lulled yourself into an affectionate state of mind fixated on a magical sort of temporary ecstasy.

\-----------

Christoph was waiting patiently for you in the basement, sprawled out on his old couch holding some sort of book merely inches from his face. When he noticed your presence, he sat up and straightened himself out, though he did not dare make eye contact with your daunting orbs. You replicated his gesture, clearing your throat and trying to rid yourself of the filthy deeds you had gone about in the shower. The clothes he had given you had been an assortment of shirts, pants, shorts, and a few dresses. The pants hadn't fit you as well as you would have liked, which left the shirts, shorts, and dresses. Shorts weren't entirely appropriate for winter, so that just left the dresses.

You hadn't wanted it to come down to the dresses. You would feel vulnerable in such an article of clothing, particularly around strangers. They looked warm, at the very least, but was warmth more important than mental comfort? You had decided the answer to that inquiry was yes. Thus, there you stood, decked out in a grey, long-sleeved dress with polar bear fur lining the bottom, neckline, and hood. You felt like royalty, wearing such threads, but you knew that it was common apparel around these parts. If the circumstances were different, you might have felt pretty.

You had been fortunate enough to find over-the-knee socks in the pile of undergarments the man had left you, seemingly made of cotton. They would be warm enough, you believed, when it came time to brave the elements once again. Gloves, as well, would guard your hands from the frigid breeze. Boots had been left by your door upon your return from the shower, just your size to shield you further. You were all set for your excursion, whenever that may be. You weren't sure if your guests would be coming to you or not.

Christoph took your form in out of the corner of his eye, drinking in how the dress hugged your body. It was the perfect size for you -- he was happy to see this. The clothes had been from a former lover, as he had told you. She had been quite important to him. You looked nothing like her and there were certainly divergences in your personality from her, but he thought that she would have approved of you wearing her dress. He thought that she would have liked you very much, in fact.

Before a smile could creep its way onto his face, he shook his head and did his best to maintain composure. It was difficult to look at you straight on. There was a sort of awkwardness wafting about in the air, and it didn't help that you were looking particularly enticing. He had to repress the thoughts that were threatening to emerge from his mouth. He couldn't act lustfully toward you; you weren't just another woman who had stumbled into his home looking for a bed companion. You needed his help.

"Good shower?" He asked abruptly and yet oh so confidently; this wasn't his first rodeo.

You looked taken aback, a light blush on your cheeks. "Yes, thank you. It was my second one today."

"I don't blame you for taking two after being in the wilderness for days." He replied.

"Yeah. It was pretty rough. Getting thrown like a sack of potatoes across a frozen pond was the worst of it." You recalled with a grimace, feeling yourself becoming a little more comfortable.

Christoph stifled a mocking cackle. "That sounds unfortunate. Hilarious image, though."

You couldn't deny that as much as you wanted to. Now that you weren't being tossed, it was quite humorous. You had never felt your feet get ripped out from under you faster in your life. As much as you wanted to continue shooting the shit with the lovely mage, time was of essence. You had to continuously remind yourself that you weren't here for pleasure.

"So, when do the hunters get here?" You asked. "Or, I guess my question is, are they coming here?"

The man shook his head. "We're going to them in about a half hour. It takes an hour to get to the meeting place through Brittleshin Pass."

You knew the place. Somewhere in the pass was an entombed dragon priest, said to have traded his soul to a Daedra for eternal life. Unlike many of the other ancient ones, who had been put to an undead rest with their dragon masters, this man had wanted to live freely and inflict his own destruction unto the world. In the end, the Daedra had tricked him. The priest had signed his soul away in exchange for an enchanted staff said to cure the user of all ailments, including vampirism and lycanthropy, but the staff hadn't been where the Daedra had promised. He fell to his demise at Brittleshin Pass when ambushed by several of the God-like being's demonic followers. Not even a dragon priest could hope to combat a group of Daedric warriors alone, it seemed.

You walked across the room to sit in the armchair next to Bosco, who had followed you downstairs after refusing to let you be after your shower. You were starting to take a liking to the pooch, even if he did insist on invading your privacy. Maybe this was the push you needed to finally get a pet once this was all over.

"My father told me the legends about that place, what with there being a dragon priest there, and all." You muttered in reference to the Pass. "I didn't know it was in Romania."

Christoph shrugged. "Not many people realize that there are many unknown and seldom-visited nooks and crevices throughout Europe. The Americas, too, and everywhere else in the world. Every region has secrets."

You couldn't argue with that. Even your hometown, which you had spent many years growing up within, probably had a secret or two that you hadn't known about. It was interesting to consider.

"Are we meeting them in the Pass?" You inquired next, not sure about lingering there for longer than you needed to. You didn't believe in curses and you were sure that the dragon priest would not rise from his tomb while you were present. The notion of being in a place where one of your kind had been tricked left you feeling unsettled.

"No, there's an abandoned tower just beyond it called Fellglow Keep. I think they chose that place because members of Hellsing had once occupied it." He mused. "There's likely a plethora of knowledge to be sifted through in the books and scrolls left behind."

"When did they occupy it?" You questioned curiously, wondering if Alucard knew about it. If not then, maybe the tower could be used in your favour.

Christoph scratched his head lazily. "Dunno. Just before Hellsing fell, I think. Someone sold the land to Integra van Hellsing, glad to be rid of the ole eyesore, not knowing that there were hundreds of weapons and scrolls locked up in a hidden basement. The basement had been enchanted by the someone so that mortals wouldn't be able to find it. You can guess who they sent in the investigate."

You gulped. "Alucard?"

Christoph smirked. "Trick question. They sent in Seras, Alucard's fledgling."

You wanted to throw a lamp at the man for making your heart nearly stop. Even speaking of the beast was horrifying to you. Gritting your teeth, however, you didn't utter an obscene word.

"One of the mortal members complained about feeling sick whenever he was stationed on the lower floor of the Keep." The man resumed. "You and I both know that the sign of a strong enchantment is nausea. I guess Integra knew that, too."

It was common knowledge among magic users that enchantments of moderate to high strength led to nausea in humans and animals. Those who were superbly gifted in alteration spells and runes had the best luck casting these. More importantly...

"Alucard knows of this place." You wanted to confirm this piece of knowledge. You thought that the answer was obvious, given that Seras had been called in to help break the enchantment, but you needed to hear it said aloud.

"Yes." Christoph breathed. "Alucard knows of Fellglow Keep. On the bright side, you have a few days before he catches up to you. You'll be safe when we go tonight."

You bit you lower lip, trembling ever so slightly. Christoph was correct; Alucard would likely not show his face until two days from now. Still, a voice in the back of your head was leading you to believe that the ancient vampire was not opposed to breaking a promise or two to reach his goal. If he learned of you going to meet the hunters, would he interfere? You had to remember to factor in that Alucard had emphasized that part of this game was to see if you could come close to killing him. He wanted you to show him what you were made of, but did that include the use of other people for assistance? Initially, he had made it very clear that you could not involve other people in the game. Further, you were not supposed to leave the country. With the bracelet off, you had the urge to do everything against his wishes. He could no longer limit your powers if you defied him or broke one of his constricting rules, so the next best thing to stop you would be to appear. Though, for him to appear, he would have to know where you were.

Did he know where you were...? A chill ran up your spine at that. You didn't want to think about it despite knowing the honest truth. It was obvious to you that he had been following you since the beginning. You had speculated this multiple times during your trip to Arad, but having solid evidence hit you differently. The stress that consumed you in the coming minutes was enough to drive you insane.

"I'm just worried." You murmured, allowing the man access to your broken mind. "You could die here tonight. Everyone could."

Christoph nodded in acknowledgement, glad that you were letting him in. He empathized with you, understanding some of the thoughts that were in your head. It wasn't easy to be nervous and alert at all times. Moreover, your fears could be brought to fruition just as much as they could be false. The vampire was tricky; he had been around for too many years to be an easy target. There was a chance that he already knew of your location, and that he would break his promise to wait an extra few days to claim you immediately. He could wait until you were all at Fellglow Keep so that he could take out those plotting against him, and then pounce on his true prey. Of course, Christoph wasn't about to tell you any of this. The best thing for your mental health at the moment was to avoid mulling over what-ifs. He could afford to take some of that burden from you.

"Sure," he responded, feigning confidence. "But is he the type to go back on his word?"

You shrugged. "I don't know. I guess if he really wanted something, he would bend the rules to get it."

Bosco barked in agreement.

"Has he kept his promises thus far?" Christoph tried again.

You recalled his constraint when it came to taking you, and again when it came to turning you. He had said that he wanted you to ask him to bite you, and additionally that he would not completely force himself on you. He had almost succumbed to his desires on several occasions, but you recalled that he had vehemently denied himself each time. In this way, he had kept his promises.

"Yes." You said finally. "But he's a monster. He's brutal in his ways and he's a despicable, calloused being. He's killed people already, and for nothing. He kidnapped me and violated my rights, for fuck's sake!"

"Yeah, he's a real piece of shit." Christoph reaffirmed. "Though, it sounds like he's at least honest in some sense of the word. I think we're safe for now. If he loves you, he'll want you to tru--"

"Hold on." You demanded. "This isn't love. He isn't in love. This is about conquest, lust, and power."

Christoph agreed with you, knowing that he could do nothing more to ease your mind. "Poor wording; you're right. All I'm saying is that he probably wants to gain false rapport with you."

You desperately wanted to agree with him. So many walls had been built up since your kidnapping and so many doors had been closed to outsiders. Once trusting, you were now cold and anxious in your ways. You found yourself despising what you were becoming for the umpteenth time that day.

You waited a few seconds before hoisting yourself up again and heading toward the staircase. "All right, well, I'm going to upstairs and, uh... Prepare."

All you wanted to do was be alone until the two of you had to leave. You were sure that this would content your companion, as well, the loner that he was. You would wait twenty minutes in your room, the door closed and the window wide open, before coming back to the basement. Maybe you could grab a quick bit of shut eye.

"Hey, could you wait a second?"

You cringed when you heard his voice, doing as he asked begrudgingly. You turned around to respectfully face him, as much as you didn't want to. His brown hair was messy and his eyes were tired, but he was still exceptionally handsome. He met your gaze in seconds.

"I wanted to apologize again for earlier." He said carefully. "Are you okay?"

You were taken aback. You couldn't recall the last time anyone had apologized to you, let alone asked you if you were okay. It made you feel as though you had had a depraved life. Here was this man, eccentric as all hell and still a total stranger by all rights, exclaiming that he had made an error. Further, he was asking you to discuss your feelings. You found yourself wishing you had encountered him years sooner.

"It flustered me a bit," you lied, minimizing your feelings. "But I'm fine. It's really okay. I feel like I should apologize to you. I got too comfortable and left the door open."

He looked relieved. "Comfortable is better than terrified."

You wanted to laugh, but couldn't quite bring yourself to. He was absolutely right; you had started out so nervous in this place, all alone and unsure of everyone. Your trust for the man was progressing quickly, likely due to the severity of the circumstances surrounding your visit. It was a good thing that you could rely on him and his space enough to lower your guard a little.

"Still," you insisted. "I'm really sorry."

"Well, me too." He said simply, and you smiled. "Let's be done with it. You close your door, and I'll be more careful."

Giving him a court nod, you started your trek up to the main floor once again, glad that you had the chance to clear the air with the mage. Of course, appearing topless in front of him was the least of your concerns, but it was nice to know that he was on the same page.

When he was sure you were out of earshot, residing in your room until it was time to leave, he released a heavy sigh. He was happy that you weren't angry with him; he really hadn't meant to intrude on your privacy. Still, this didn't negate the fact that you were quite the looker. You were what some might have referred to as an unconventional beauty. It was your personality that shone through, making you undeniably enticing. He was hooked already and despite knowing well that he could never be with you -- sexually or otherwise. The two of you had a mission. There was no time for sex on a mission, and a relationship after all this? You would probably be hell-bent on spending years in therapy to forget this ordeal; you wouldn't want him around as a constant reminder. It was a harsh reality, but one that he had to face, nonetheless.

"I think I'm just lonely," he whispered aloud, perhaps more to himself than to the curious Bosco.

It wasn't really about you, was it? It was about a warm body by his side, someone to come home to, someone to rely on. Anytime someone came around who he could see a future with, this lust came and went. He could never commit again; he had made the promise to remain alone until the end of his days. It was nice to think about, however, whenever the thought did arise. Having a woman as intelligent as you by his side would have been a treat. You were able to keep up with his conversations and keep him interested, whereas most of the village ladies couldn't maintain his attention for longer than five minutes.

It wasn't their fault; they weren't bad looking or stupid. It was his standards that made it difficult for him to associate with others. He would admit that he was a bit of a snob when it came to socializing for pleasure. Business was business, of course. It was in this sense that it became his selectivism became his downfall. When someone like you came along, the daydreaming occurred, and he found himself yearning for something well beyond his reach.

Adjusting his glasses, he sat back down and sifted through the stack of papers next to him. He had to prepare a document for the hunters prior to the meeting, a small price he had to pay for allowing you to convene with them. He couldn't be fantasizing when there was proper work to be done.

\----------

You gazed at the bed with skeptical eyes, the sheets looking as though they had only ever been cleaned once in their entire existence. Christoph was a smart, attractive young man, but he sure didn't know how to take care of a house. Maybe he had relied on his previous lover to do so. Alas, clean sheets or otherwise, you needed to lay down.

With a small grimace, you lowered yourself onto the mattress, neglecting to pull any of the covers over yourself. You could hear Bosco whining just beyond the door, pawing the wood in hopes that you would let him in. As much as you enjoyed his presence, you really wanted a few minutes alone. It had been so long since you had been able to feel as though you were by yourself, even though you might have been at some point during your journey. There was always the looming threat of Alucard looming over you. Here, you felt protected. Christoph was right downstairs if you needed him and he was a powerful mage. He hadn't boasted of his abilities -- you just knew. His disorganized nature only proved this fact, as the most uncoordinated were often the most spectacular mages. Had he been born with the blood of a dragon priest coursing through him, he would have been truly spectacular. That was another question you could ponder as you lulled yourself to sleep: how much did Christoph know about dragon priests?

You turned on your side and closed your eyes, thinking more about the mysterious man dwelling below you. It was short-lived, however, as you jolted upward at the sudden sound of knocking. Your heart was pounding unnecessarily as you pressed a hand against your chest in an attempt to comfort yourself. You knew it was Christoph -- who else could it be? Yet you trembled at the prospect of it being someone else.

You got up swiftly, rushing toward the door. You would have called for him to enter, but given that your last encounter in the room had been awkward, you elected to let him in yourself. Except when you ripped open the door with the brightest smile you could muster, nobody was there.

Your blood froze. Had it been in your head, the knocking? Were you hallucinating from exhaustion and stress, perhaps a newly developed mental illness? It wasn't a stretch. You could have harboured a vulnerability for some type of psychosis, which was activated due to immense stress. 

The knocked came again, echoing across your eardrums and making you gasp. You poked your head in the hallway, hoping it was Christoph playing some sort of trick on you or old Bosco whacking his tail against the wall. The good news was that it wasn't a hallucination; the bad news was that it wasn't a hallucination. You could hear the man of the house rummaging around downstairs still.

"God, I can't take this!" An enraged voice boomed from the basement. "Fuck math!"

You placed a hand against your forehead, massaging your skin as you attempted to process the knocking. The second occurence hadn't been a figment of your imagination, but Christoph and Bosco were elsewhere in the house.

'Pipes,' you tried to tell yourself, until the next series of knocks came. It didn't sound like the casual creaking of a bungalow. It sounded man-made -- vampire-made, perchance.

You whirled around to look at the only other entrance to your room, not shocked by what stared back at you. Just outside the window, not even bothering to cloak himself in darkness, was a wolf. His red eyes gave his true identity away. Unconsciously, you backed up against the bedroom door, eyes wide and breath caught in your throat. Here he was, ready to break his promise. He was going to take you away.

"Not yet, my dear," his silky voice made it sound as though he was in the same room as you. "I will keep my word."

"You knew what I was thinking," you proclaimed with a steady voice, anger clouding your horror. "You read my mind."

"Yes," the creature admitted with a twisted grin, its brown fur twitching in anticipation. "You let your guard down enough for me to intrude."

"For how long?" You asked meekly. "How long has my guard been down?"

"Not long; when you sleep or allow your mind to relax."

You were terrified at the realization that you had let your defenses drop low enough for him to penetrate your thoughts beneath your conscious awareness. It wasn't overly surprising that it had happened, however. You reiterated to yourself that it was likely due to the feeling of safety that came about from staying with Christoph. Had you been on your own, perhaps Alucard wouldn't have been able to so easily trick you.

"You think of him so fondly." The remark was riddled with hostility.

He didn't care to see that you were thinking of the man, particularly when you had called him such nasty things in the basement. He didn't understand how you could continuously neglect to see how much he wanted you. Was it that you couldn't see it, or that you didn't like the attention? At first, he had thought the former. What woman didn't like attention, after all? Although now, he was beginning to see that it was the latter. This only served to further highlight how different you were from the rest. You would need to be trained more intensively than Mina, but the outcome would remain the same. You would grow to love him on your own accord, though he was not opposed to using a little of his mind techniques to hurry the process.

You stood across from him so defiantly, so sure of yourself. It amused him more than angered him. You believed that you had some semblance of the upper hand, when in reality you had no such thing. You were talented and exceptionally smart but those traits could not match his own cunning.

"Are you going to kill him like you killed Youssef?" You asked finally.

The animal growled. "He deserves what's coming to him."

"He doesn't!" You hissed loudly. "I won't let you kill him. I wasn't able to save Youssef, but--"

"You weren't able to save him, or you ran away so you could save yourself?"

You winced. Now that was a hard pill to swallow. It was fortunate that you were self-aware.

"I ran away to save myself."

"Yes." He dragged his claws down the glass of the window, the only thing separating the two of you. "Your selfishness and his selflessness."

You couldn't let him distract you from the topic at hand. You knew that you had been wrong in seeking out help from Youssef and then running away. Even though the man had told you to stay away from the village, probably hoping to protect both you and his friends, you should have remained. You might have at least been able to strike a bargain with the vampire. Ah, but then your journey would have ended prematurely. You gritted your teeth at the thought of such a thing, to which he chuckled.

"I would have killed many and spared few." He snarled. "A fitting punishment for an unruly bride."

You scowled. "The fact remains: I couldn't have saved Youssef, but I will save Christoph when the time comes."

"So adamant, my pet. How guilty you must feel." Alucard cackled. "Will you miss this mage after I carve out his insides? I may consider hanging his body on a pike outside your window. Consider it a gift. Even I, a monster, can be kind."

You snarled at him, the thought of him maiming your comrade bringing you to the brink of fury. You didn't want to think about someone else dying in your name; you weren't sure if your mind could take it. That was likely the point. Alucard wanted to break you down with these brutal techniques, thinking he could win you over by making him the only thing you could rely on. It was pitiful as much as it was unrealistic.

"Leave me be." You demanded, wanting seldom else to do with the conversation. There was nothing the two of you urgently needed to say to each other; you couldn't comprehend why he had decided to show himself now. To scare you into submission, perhaps, though such a tactic had proven to be fruitless.

"You will not speak to me this way when you are mine," he warned. "Get it out of your system while you are exempted from punishment."

His cockiness and condescension infuriated you like never before. You knew the outcome of this game, as did he; to taunt you with it was heinous. Did he know that this was how you felt? Did he even know what he was doing to you? It wasn't likely that he could see beyond his ego.

"This is punishment!" You shouted. "Are you so absorbed in yourself that you can't see--"

In an instant, he disappeared. You didn't even bother finishing your sentence, knowing that throwing a temper tantrum would only serve to rile you up. Alucard was surely disturbed by your objections, but he didn't care about the specifics of what you were saying. It was the principle of the matter, the fact that you weren't obeying in some way, shape, or form. It was frustrating to the point of insanity, a reason you chose not to dwell on it. Instead, you woke up.

\-----------

Your eyes snapped open and your mouth was agape, drool dripping down one side of your face as you awakened facing the wall. You had been dreaming. He had come to you in yet another dream. Was it really him, or your imagination? If what he had said was true, you had unknowingly let your guard down enough for him to enter your mind. This meant that he had been watching you the entire time, and that he was continuing to do so.

You leapt out of the bed and darted over to the window, tearing it open and shoving your head stupidly into the night. There were few people on the streets. Snow was swaying gently in the wind, hitting the ground and blowing across the cobblestone walkways. The evening was calm. Nothing seemed amiss. Thrusting yourself back inside, you slammed the window shut and sped into the hallway. Bosco was laying at the end of the hallway; you only noticed him because you had almost tripped over him. The pooch was sound asleep.

Panting as though you had just run a marathon, you flew down the stairs and prayed you would find the mage situated on his own in the basement. You had a notoriously bad feeling -- the type that reeked of Alucard. If he had come to you in your dream, he could be in the house. The dream could have been induced by his hand as a distraction. If this was the case, then Christoph could be in trouble.

"Chris...!" You whimpered. "Christoph...!"

"What is it?" The man whipped around, confusion painted across his tired face.

You didn't stop your pursuit, marching up to him and clutching his shoulders in your strong grip. You brought your face close to his, inspecting his finest details. From there, you went lower, examining his stature and body weight. Nothing seemed off, however you couldn't help but feel like you were missing something. 

"What are you doing?" There was a tinge of discomfort in his voice, furthering your suspicions.

"I need to know you are who you say you are." You explained frantically. "I had another dream."

Christoph allowed you to carry on with your check, less bothered now that he understood the cause. There was a method to your madness. He just hoped he would pass whatever test you were subjecting him to.

"The same sort of dream as the one about the sex traffickers?" He inquired, trying to keep casual.

"I didn't even know I was dreaming this time. I woke up in the bed, but I don't even remember falling asleep."

He hummed in response. "Do what you need to do."

Stopping you now would only serve to increase the paranoia you felt. He wanted to show you yet again that he was worth trusting. It was exhausting to leave himself exposed to your probing, having only met you hours prior. Still, something compelled him to comply; he wanted to make you feel secure. Importantly, he wanted you to see that he meant you absolutely no harm. You looked him over until you were satisfied, eventually trusting yourself and your memory enough to clear him as the real deal. It was a relief to you both when you backed off.

"I'm sorry." You muttered. "Again."

"Nevermind that. What happened in the dream?" Christoph prompted as you stood up from your crouching position, shaking your head in embarrassment.

There was a sort of terror in the air that hadn't been present until now. It wasn't one he has ever felt within the confines of his little home before, and it frightened him. He couldn't feel anything abnormal lurking nearby, but that didn't mean much. Alucard was one of the highly esteemed masters of trickery that existed in this universe; he could hide if he wanted to. In fact, if he really did believe this chase to be a game, he would probably elect to do so not for fear of being caught, but for fear of losing the element of surprise.

You nodded but kept your head tilted downwards. "He was at the window. I heard scratching."

"Walk me through it." The mage urged, more for himself than for your sake.

"He was a brown wolf. I knew it was him before he even spoke."

Christoph licked his lips nervously. "What did he say, (f/n)?"

It was the sound of your name that brought you back; you hadn't heard it spoken in such a warm tone since Henrick. Though hysterical more so than usual, Christoph was correct to say that it all mattered. Alucard was currently an undefeated being. He had been captured and confined over the years, though these happenings did not perpetuate his demise. Moreover, if he did desire you, then that would suggest a vulnerability. You were a type of weakness that could be used against him, even if it was in the form of verbal analysis.

You couldn't believe that you hadn't yet thought of this, having several days to yourself in the wilderness of Romania. For someone so self-aware, this was a further embarrassment to your character. Shaking your head then, you balled your hand into a fist and tried to stop quivering. It was well past the time for you to be thinking more critically about the beast, but it was better late than never.

"Okay." You breathed. "He said that he would keep his word. He read my mind and discovered that I was nervous about a premature capture."

"He could read your mind?" He inquired steadily.

"Supposedly it was because I let my guard down just enough so that he could intrude undetected. He said it was a recent development."

"Maybe since the bracelet was removed."

You weren't sure. It could have been back at the hotel room, when you had collapsed onto the bed and sunk into a deep slumber. You had experienced a dream of him then, too, though you had brushed it off as utter nonsense at the time. Instead of commenting on the topic, you resumed.

"Regardless, he seemed upset that I was worried for your safety. He brought up Youssef."

"Youssef?" Christoph asked hastily, a tinge of anger in his tone.

There was some sort of emotion that glittered in his eyes whenever his deceased friend was mentioned. You were either learning to read him more adequately or he felt it safe enough to express vulnerability around you. You suddenly regretted assuming that he was a calloused, unfeeling man. It was clear that he was mourning Youssef in his own way. If he wasn't occupied with your business, he likely would have already started on a pilgrimage to the town.

"He said that I was to blame for his demise." You spoke softly, unsure if you should have admitted such a thing to him.

The mage looked perplexed, as if he could not connect the death of his friend to your circumstance. Maybe he didn't want to understand the connection. Maybe he didn't want to see how you were so thickly implicated in the ancient vampire's sick plot to kill Youssef for merely advising you. Similarly, perhaps he didn't want to think about how he had set himself up for an agonizing death at the hands of the monstrous being.

"I'm sorry," you offered, knowing that an apology didn't even scratch the surface of what you owed both men.

He met your gaze and maintained it, searching for something in your (e/c) hues that he couldn't quite seem to find before leaning back against the couch with a groan. "What else did he say?"

"I told him to leave me be and he became angry. It's all about dominance with him. No one can be above him." You explained with spite.

The mage laughed dryly. "I imagine that after his time serving the bastards at Hellsing in the mutilation of his own kind, he doesn't want anyone to feel they have power over him again. It's sort of like he's trying assert his dominance at the apex of the food chain."

"Absolutely." 

"Did he do anything else after that? You said he was pissed."

"He disappeared and I yelled. Did you hear me?"

The mage shook his head, then took a mental moment to register it all for himself. You were known to have these sorts of dreams, but what if this one had been real? He leaned back into his couch and lulled his head to the side lazily, gazing down at one of the papers beside him. He had just completed the document when you had come rushing down the stairs. There were complicated equations on it, some which had taken him far to long to calculate. It made him angrier just thinking about it, a terrible rage broiling deep in the pit of his stomach from everything that was happening at the moment. Youssef, the calculations, the possibility of Alucard invading his home -- it was setting him over the edge. Running a hand through his brown locks, he closed his eyes and mashed his fist into the papers surrounding him.

"I said it once and I'll say it again," he proclaimed in an attempt to dispel the tension. "Fuck math. Never could make much sense of it."

He held up the piece of paper to show you what he meant before getting to his feet and gathering the rest. It was about time to start leaving if they wanted to make it to the meeting place on time. You could discuss Alucard's whereabouts on the move. He only noticed your state of distraught when he turned around to tell you to hurry up and get ready. There you were, frozen in place with wide eyes and a perfectly still form. You were in shambles, though only you knew why.

You stumbled up the stairs and made a mad dash toward your room, nearly tripping over Bosco as you staggered across to the only window. Behind you, Christoph struggled to catch up with you both physically and mentally. You traced your fingers against the glass that separated you from the cruel winds of outside, searching for some other indication that the dream had been real. You could have simply heard Christoph shout something about math unconsciously, but marks on the glass would reveal much more.

"I'm sure there's some method to your madness, but can you walk me through it?"

That's when you found it. They were faint, but they were there: the indents you were searching for.

"These!" You shouted, pointing at them furiously.

Christoph leaned down to have a look, inspecting them with a critical eye. The marks you were pointing at could have been from anything. The weather was harsh out here, the winds damaging houses and industries more and more every year. It was possible that some object made the scratches.

"I don't want to discount you," he proclaimed. "But these could have been from anything."

You shook your head. "They're too neat to be from just anything. And look here."

You gestured to the outside ledge of the window, sticking your head out and pointing to the deep claw marks deforming the wood. He could understand what you meant about the glass, too. The jagged indentations were relatively straight, akin to markings from some animal. They could have been made recently but there was no way to tell. He didn't tread into this room much since his lover had gone and he certainly didn't look for strange markings on his windows. Still, he couldn't ignore the coincidence of your dream and this new piece of evidence. It was extremely likely that Alucard was nearby, regardless of whether or not he left a physical trace of himself behind. He was a master of manipulation and illusion, like most ancient vampires.

Christoph bit his lower lip, drawing blood. He was trying to concentrate. He was trying to be rational. He didn't want to cause a stir for nothing. It was just that things were becoming ungodly real. He had been in dangerous situations before, but he couldn't necessarily say that he had ever feared for his life. Even when you had sought his assistance, he hadn't been scared upon hearing your plight. Now, in this moment, he could feel it. His heart was pounding and he was sweating. His breathing was quick and unsteady. His eyes were sharp and paranoid, much like the state of his mind. Just in the last five minutes, things had been put into perspective on a greater level. He could actually die this time.

"What do you think?" You prompted, breaking him from the anxiety that would have consumed him like a ravenous bear.

He pursed his lips and furrowed his brows. He didn't want you to see how badly this was affecting him. It would be terribly selfish for him to make this about himself, after all; you were under enough stress. Instead, he wore a blank expression when he met your graze, pushing everything but nonchalance down into the recesses of his mind. He neglected the thoughts reminding him that he was hurting himself temporarily for an utter stranger, doing what he felt was the most appropriate for your wellbeing. He was nothing like his relative, Walter, who had been depressingly selfish until his final breath; this was yet another testament to that.

"I say we'd better get going. At this rate we'll be late, and the clock is evidently ticking."

Filling in some important plot points (i.e., Dracula tryna smash and some Christoph lovin'). Wrote this in between working so forgive any errors!


	9. Chapter VIII: The Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which you meet the esteemed hunters, learn of them, and develop a plan. Alucard is nearby and secrets are revealed.

Brittleshin Pass had been nothing like what you had imagined. You had thought that it would be icy, with a frigid draft that flowed in through one opening and out the other. You had prepared to encounter frost trolls and ice wraiths, but you had instead found a coven of mages practicing dark arts. The place itself had been dreary, though not nearly as chilly as anticipated. It had been sealed off from the outside world for the most part, which had likely been why excommunicated magic users had decided to congregate there. How tricky they had been. In fact, they had taken two whole minutes longer to perish than your usual enemies, even with the help of Christoph. Only one of them had escaped with their life; this had been the smartest one of the pack.

After your short-lived battle, you had used your energy to search for the entombed dragon priest. There must have been a false wall somewhere in the location, for you had felt him metres below you despite there bring no access to a lower level of the location. That was fine; you hadn't wanted to pick a fight with him, anyway. Curiosity had merely gotten the better of you. It had been so long since you had managed to feel one of your own nearby. Despite the horrid nature of the now undead creature that lurked beneath the Pass, it had been oddly comforting to sense another with your prowess.

"So let me get this straight -- the dragon priest here is dead?" Christoph had inquired after you had expressed a facetious interest in finding him.

"That's what the legends say." You had confirmed. "He was sealed here so he can be revived later. It could be to protect whatever's below. This could even be the tomb of a dragon that's been long forgotten."

"Would he still be a dragon priest if he's undead?"

You had thought about this for a moment, mostly because it was a question that could also be applied to you in future endeavours. It was difficult to make a judgement on this topic, hence. Technically, if they were resurrected by some means, they would be undead. Nonetheless, many dragon priests were sealed away during the fall of the dragons many centuries ago, and they were still referred to as their title rather than undead beings. You supposed it didn't matter; in the end, you were what you were.

"I think so."

After emerging, it was still a while before you reached the Keep. The snow had whipped the two of you in the face relentlessly until Christoph had thought to cast a ward spell. You had almost slapped yourself for not remembering that such a shield could surely protect you from less than dangerous attacks. He had been able to maintain the ward for as long as it took you to get to the hunters, making casual conversation along the way. It was mostly questions about dragon priests and how your powers worked. He had heard from an acquaintance that the dragons had given your priests masks, which greatly enhanced your powers. This was true, though not as he understood it.

"There's a price to accepting the mask as an asset," you explained to the engaged mage. "Once you put it on, there's a chance it can overtake you."

Christoph's eyes nearly shot out of his head with how wide they became. Not many knew about how the masks worked, as not many dragon priests had them in this day and age. They were made of dragon bone and enchanted using an ancient art known to only the elders. They were granted sparingly and only to those who had prestige well beyond their peers. Though, if you were honest, your father had given you yours and you weren't entirely sure where it had come from. He had told you not to bother asking.

"No kidding!" He exclaimed. "So the magical influence of the mask binds to the host's energy."

You nodded. "That's right. The influence of the mask depends on the elder or dragon who crafted it. It's their energy."

The man clapped excitedly, clearly consolidating a host of sought after information from your ramblings. "Interesting! If the energy put into the mask is then the mask is inherently bad. Then what?"

"Then, the mask can do terrible things." You replied morbidly. "If you don't have the strength to control it or at least the strength to eventually negate its influence, it can take over permanently."

"How do you know if a mask is negative?"

"Good question," you acknowledged. "I guess you don't until you put it on."

"Okay. It's a gamble unless you know who crafted it."

"Yes. Mine turned out to be fine, fortunately."

The mask that had burrowed itself into you was relatively good. From what you understood, all mask energies, whether they were good or bad, eventually tried to engulf their host. It was simply a battle of strength, by which the user had to find a way to preside over the foreign invader that dared to deplete them, at least for a short period of time. There were legends that suggested the ancient masks given to the original dragons had been implicated in the dark changes some of them had displayed. Once adorning a mask, some of their personalities were altered. 

You hadn't noticed your mask doing anything fishy yet. There were a few instances where it whispered to you, promising you unlimited power if you simply allowed to to emerge. You had nearly released it during your battle with Alucard, but relented when you thought about the potential consequences of your failure. If you didn't manage to kill him by the time you had to overtake your mask, you would be left incapacitated and at his mercy. Would the mask have been enough to kill the vampire? Could you have succeeded and stopped the bloodshed before it began...?

"Here we are." Your companion spoke, ending your absurd what-if notions.

A stone fortress stood but metres away. The walls surrounding the Keep were crumbling away on all four sides but the main building remained as robust as the day it was built. It seemed to be three storeys high, excluding the once sealed dungeon level, and took on the shape of a layered wedding cake. You assumed that the hunters would be awaiting you on the top floor; less room for an ambush that way. As you passed through what remained of the stone gate, you marvelled at the craftsmanship of the building as a whole. You weren't sure what had been going through the original owner's head when he had sold such a sight, but you supposed that times were tough and money was money.

Just as you were about to comment on just that, an arrow whizzed by your head, narrowly missing your right ear. Immediately, magic flowed through you as you craned your neck to determine who would attack someone without a word. A woman stood atop the highest peak of the Keep, an ebony bow held effortlessly in her hand while another arrow occupied the other. Strangely, you hadn't sensed her until the warning shot.

"Darcy!" Christoph shouted, opening his arms as if to embrace her from a distance. "Hold your fire!"

"Ya have five seconds before I fire off another, lad!" She threatened in a thick Scottish accent. "I cannae guarantee you'll live!"

The two of you rushed inside, throwing closed the wooden door that was hanging on a single hinge. Panting as if you had just jogged a marathon, you looked at your equally as drained comrade. You had thought that these people were expecting them. You certainly hadn't expected to have an arrow nearly impale you.

"What the hell was that?" You demanded breathlessly.

"Oh, her?" Christoph wheezed. "That's just Darcy. Not too fond of me."

"What did you do to her?"

He grinned. "Some might call me eccentric. She calls me an arsehole."

From there, you took a few moments to catch your breath before your affiliate ushered you up the set of winding stairs in front of you. You took note of the pleasant smell of roasted pheasant that wafted through your nostrils. God, when was the last time you had eaten? You hadn't had the chance to ask about food during your time at the bungalow. In fact, the thought hadn't even crossed your mind, with all that had happened. The stairs took you all the way to the top floor. The smell of burning wood hit you next, and you were pleasantly surprised to find a fire in the centre of the room. A man was tending to it intently. Most of his short golden locks were covered by a black toque that stopped just above his ears, though a few short strands fanned his forehead. His ice blue eyes showed cunning, contrasting handsomely with his pale face and blonde stubble. He was dressed as though he was a member of some special operations unit, a bulletproof vest peaking through his partially zipped black jacket. On his lower half, he wore matching pants that appeared to be insulated to prevent heat from escaping. You had to admit, his mysterious demeanour was quite captivating. 

"You made it." He murmured without glancing up.

You only noticed the shotgun harboured at his side when you were in front of the fire, standing before the warmth gleefully as you felt the snow on your jacket melt. It was disconcerting that he had it ready at his side, but you had to remind yourself that you were as much a stranger to him as he was to you. It was just a precaution. 

"Mav, meet (f/n), the dragon priest." The mage introduced you boisterously.

The man got to his feet with ease, extending his hand to you. You took it eagerly. The handshake was firm, showing you that he was both respectful and professional in matters pertaining to his mission. This was a good sign.

"Maverick," he corrected his comrade. "I'm sure we'll get along."

"You're a mage, as well?" You inquired, already knowing the answer.

"Perceptive." He smirked.

"You don't repress your prowess well."

"One ought to not repress what is meant to flow freely. I'm not as good as Christoph but I have some innate talent."

You stared at him for a moment, trying to do a valid opinion of the man. You had already deduced that he was as handsome as he was brilliant, but what of the rest of him? He was only revealing what he wanted you to see and disclosing loose, non-essential information. He wasn't overly cold or warm.

"Don't mind him, lass."

You turned on your heel just in time to greet the Scottish woman from earlier as she had reached the top step. Now that you saw her up close, she was quite pretty. Her strawberry blonde hair, wet from the snow, draped halfway down her back. She was clad in what looked to be Nordic steel armour. The helmet bore the shape of a bear's head, giving her the appearance of being engulfed by the grizzly beast. The level of defence this ensemble granted her with was great, to be sure. Her dark brown eyes matched what little skin you could see. They told the story of someone who had been burned far too many times to give away trust on a whim.

"Well met." You greeted amicably, extending your hand. "(F/n)."

"Likewise." She received your gesture. "Let's get along, now."

"Where's Bern? I thought she'd be the first one to greet us." Christoph asked suddenly, craning his neck to peer inside one of the dark rooms beyond the fire.

Darcy shrugged, eyeing Maverick for an answer he did not possess. As if on cue, a woman emerged from a room on the left, waving in your general direction. She wore armour akin to Darcy's, though her hair was mid-length and resembled that of a sunset. There was a dagger at her side and a long sword draped across her back. The dark circles under her eyes told a thousand stories.

"Oui, oui, I am 'ere." She yawned.

Maverick only spared his comrade a side glance before looking at you with cold, meaningless eyes. It was chilling how this man seemed to regard the world so soulessly. You wondered what had occurred to transform him into a shell of a mortal being. You didn't suppose you would ever receive an answer, even if you had dared to ask.

"It's been a long journey. Sleeping at night isn't preferable when you're a vampire hunter. We're waiting for one more, and then we can start talking in depth." He muttered.

"Doc." Christoph explained. "He's a dragon priest, too."

Your eyes widened. You hadn't expected one of your own to be part of an occult vigilante group. Gulping, you pretended to look as though the news had not rattled you. It would be odd, interacting with someone like you again.

"We didn't agree to meet with you because of what you are." Maverick grunted.

"That's apparent." You retorted. "Care to explain?"

He could see the increasing alarm on your delicate visage. Normally, he wasn't one to cater to emotional responses; however, there was setting oddly familiar glistening in your exhausted (e/c) eyes that made him relent. It was the same fear that was in his eyes when he was a child, after he had lost his family to a tragedy. After he had been tossed into the broken system that was no designed for orphans or the unfortunates. After he had watched his best friend get his throat ripped out by a bloodthirsty nightstalker. It was evident that you had gone through far more than what Christoph had already disclosed. There wasn't an ounce of trust in your body language and you carried yourself as though you had something to prove. You were akin to a wounded animal with nowhere else to turn, one who believed itself to be trapped, expecting the bell of death to chime indifferently any minute.

Yes, he could excuse your snippy response and the emotions that you could barely regulate. He knew he could trust you, too, though he wouldn't let on to such. He kept things like that private; not everything needed to be shared. All that mattered was that you knew they would agree to help you.

You wore your heart on your sleeve and could barely hide your feelings from the public eye. This was enough for him to see that you were good and reliable. Moreover, Christoph had vouched for you. Maverick could see now that the reason for this may have been due to the small crush that the brunette harboured toward you, though he knew that Christoph wasn't the type to allow lust to cloud his senses. If you didn't have a good heart or some semblance of fine intentions, he wouldn't have been attracted to you in the first place.

Maverick reclined a few inches, drinking in your image with calculated eyes. He did well when it came to deciphering people. He already had your basic components figured out. It wouldn't be long before Darcy and Bernadette did the same. Doc would be the tie-breaker whenever he arrived, if it came to that. They had all agreed to a majority vote regarding your involvement in their mission. If the majority deemed you to be useful in the plot to end Dracula, then they would be happy to take you in and work quickly. However, if you were only able to provide mediocre information and lacked the required skills to survive alongside them, then they would be forced to kill you.

It sounded extreme, when he thought about it like this, though he had to remind himself that your death would be necessary. Allowing you to leave alive would mean a free meal for their enemy, and God knew what the ancient creature was planning to do with a new bride at his side. They couldn't risk it. You wouldn't be able to defeat him on your own, as much as he saw that you wanted to. None of them could take on Alucard on their own. It would take a team of dedicated, free-thinking, and skilled hunters.

He hoped that it wouldn't have to come to your demise. He knew what such an action would trigger, of course. Not only would it put an end to the life of a dragon priest, but it would also summon the vampire to their exact location. Christoph was delirious if he thought that Alucard wasn't keeping tabs on you. If you were killed or one of the people present indicated that you were in eminent danger, the beast would no doubt appear and destroy them all unless they managed to best him in his enraged state. Lives other than yours would be lost and failure was more likely than victory.

The man blinked, absolving himself from all thoughts beyond those most pertinent. He had gone off on an inner tangent, not able to help himself from going over every last detail of every last avenue in this risky game of cat and mouse. All was in a delicate state; second guessing himself was becoming easier.

"I guess we can begin without Doc; he'll join us eventually." Maverick cleared his throat. "Let's start by introducr ourselves first."

Christoph also appeared to be less tense with the sudden change in Maverick's attitude. He had been concerned about how you would fit in with the group, if they would see what he had seen in you. Merely based on externalized characteristics alone, Maverick seemed to have accepted you. This was certainly a good start. He caught your eye for a ghost of a second and didn't miss the quick smile you flashed his way.

"I'll start. I come from a family of mercenaries. I'm a mercenary-turned-vampire hunter since I watched a bunch of them kill my best friend." Maverick paused. "Before you ask, Alucard didn't kill him. The attack was random. The master vampire who demanded it was killed. It was my gun's first taste of tainted blood."

A long, stagnant silence ensued as he pulled a cigarette from his jacket pocket and searched in another for his lighter. He raised the stick to his lips and held it there as he lit it, taking a long drag before exhaling just as leisurely. It was the first time you had seen the man at least attempt to relax. You could tell that his mind was tumultuous; perhaps smoking was a method of quelling the thoughts for but a few seconds per day.

He continued. "I don't have a deep meaning for why I want to kill Alucard. I'm hunting him because he's a threat to society once again. His binding to the Hellsing family has been absolved and his powers have returned to him in full, presumably. You're aware of his reign in Romanian history, aren't you?"

"He was Vlad the Impaler." You answered. "He ruled a sector of Romania in the fourteenth century."

"That's what they say." Maverick nodded. "He was cruel as a mortal man and worse as an undead being. I have no doubt that he wishes for revenge of some sort, or at least to be recognized as some apex predator. His people were said to have praised him as a God."

"A god?"

"It might have been out of fear or they may have believed believed him to be a celestial."

"So, you want to slay him before he can no longer be slayed." You asserted. "Is that it? You want him dead before he really does possess God-like abilities."

"That's right. He's never idle and he has a thirst for knowledge, much like your kind do." The blonde noticed the look on your face and back peddled. "Not that dragon priests and vampires are harmonious in all aspects."

"Interesting." Christoph muttered abruptly. "The premise of why Alucard chose you as his target, (f/n), may coincide with this idea that dragon priests and vampires are both generally intelligent beings, after all. It's very likely that he wanted a partner who was also drawn to old writings, science, and world theories. It definitely helps with compatibility--"

You grimaced, disturbed by this new revelation as the mage rambled on. The obsession may not have been maintained by the mere fact that you were a dragon priest but it may have developed due to such. This only facilitated that you had been his since he had first laid his dark, crimson eyes on you. It was an uncomfortable feeling, this notion that your fate had stopped being yours to sculpt when you had merely and unknowingly presented yourself to him.

"The similarities are there." Maverick admitted. "But my point was that he may be searching for a method for extending his immortality by capitalizing his physical resistance and strength. This would make him increasingly more difficult to kill. Pair that with his evasive demeanor and that's a recipe for disaster."

At first, you had thought that it sounded silly but now it was starting to make sense. You couldn't kill what you couldn't find and hauntingly, you couldn't kill what didn't want to be killed. This was a very real threat. Alucard was well read and well versed across topics. It was evident that he indulged in books of varying kinds, judging from the facts that he had spilled on the many occasions he had visited you in his dungeon. You hated to admit that he had even taught you a thing or two about topics you were less versed in.

"He's one of the first vampires, if not the original." Maverick explained further. "He's survived across many centuries. It isn't out of the realm of possibility that he could find an ancient tome or two detailing lost secrets of longevity during this time."

"He could use his elongated lifespan to study these secrets in ways that mortals could never." You were piecing things together. "Even in ways that dragon priests could never."

"Exactiment." Bernadette proclaimed.

"And you all know for a fact these tomes exist? That he's really searching for them?" You questioned, trying to control the tremble in your voice.

Maverick deadpanned as his sharp gaze burned into you. "The books exist; they're from the era of the dragons, well before Vlad."

"You know this." Bernadette murmured, now also locked onto you. "As a dragon priest, you must."

You knew. Your father had spoken of them. They were forbidden and lost tomes. Not even the eldest dragon priests knew of their location... or so they said. Speculative occult historians have indicated that they might be buried with the dragons and their priests across the world. If this was the case, then they were well protected. Even you, one of their own, would have a difficult time wrestling past a dragon priest, who would be reincarnated at full capacity upon the attempted theft of the book.

Alucard was stronger than you. Was he stronger than someone with three times the skill as your own? You thought that it was highly probable. What he lacked in strength, you knew that he made up for in trickery and stealth. He could go head-to-head with a dragon priest of high calibre and stand a good chance of defeating them.

"As for if he is searching for them, we believe that he already 'as one. He may be looking to acquire another."

Your breath caught in your throat for a moment as you contemplated the repercusions of Alucard learning the forbidden secrets entombed in just one book. Escape from him already seemed unlikely. If he had the aptitude to grow stronger, then escape would become impossible. Worse, everyone who crossed his path would be beneath him in ability. No one could hope to square off on equal footing against him, perhaps not even a large group of capable beings.

"We need to stop him." You whispered, more to yourself than the others. "He can't have those books. Not even one."

"That's why our mission is time-sensitive, like yours." Maverick alleged. "It's better to make our attempt now than later. Of course, if we had a tome in our possession, we could lure him to us. This would be easier than hunting him down on his own turf."

"If you think I can help you locate any of the tomes, I don't know where they are." You said truthfully.

"We know." Christoph responded. "That's not what we're getting at."

"I mean to say that we no longer need a tome when we have you." The blonde man smirked. "He cares just as much about you, doesn't he?"

You refused to humor that. You didn't know that Alucard had been after forbidden books, though you supposed you shouldn't be surprised. What was a long life without a bride and alternatively, what was having a bride without a long life? He would ensure that you never escaped him. You weren't sure how he really felt about you, or if the books were of more importance. You only knew that he was a possessive creature by nature, and that he found you irresistibly enticing. 

"I'm not so sure about that." You challenged. "But I see where you're going with this. If you can incorporate me into part of your plan, then it's important to seize this opportunity."

"That's it, gal." Darcy divulged.

"I also understand that you won't let me leave here alive if I refuse to work with you."

Maverick snorted, while Bernadette rolled her eyes and Darcy huffed. Christoph looked sorrowful, and it dawned upon you that he had known this the entire time. You didn't fault him for it, of course. You had decided to take a risk and meet these hunters by yourself.

"That's right." The archer concluded.

"We 'ave to." Bernadette echoed.

"If we let you leave, he'll turn you. Then we'd have to defeat both of you." Maverick began. "On top of that, he could use you to retrieve the rest of the tomes. I'm not saying that you don't have enough willpower, but it only takes a matter of days for him to--"

"That's exactly why I don't want to be turned!" You shouted, feeling overwhelmed. "I'll lose myself! I'll start doing things without conscious awareness, doing things for him that I would never do..."

Christoph touched your shoulder gingerly, and even through your heavy jacket you could feel his warmth. It didn't quell your worrisome heart but it helped to ground you. You weren't looking at him, pretending to find your feet far more enticing than his handsome visage.

Thoughts of Alucard commanding you to sleep with him, to do his bidding, to kill in his name -- they made you sick. You imagined him seated on his throne, fully clothed, with you at his feet, dressed in nothing but sheer fabric and chains. He would take you whenever and wherever he pleased, forcing you to enjoy it and beg for more as he drove you to the point of release. He would humiliate you, hypnotizing you to breach past your discomfort and protests to do exactly as he asked. Night after night he would seep deeper into your mind until you didn't notice his presence any. One day, you would undoubtedly learn to accept his love, for you would fear it far less than his anger.

You pressed a hand to your mouth and tried to keep yourself from vomiting. The horror that enveloped you from what you knew was to come made living painful. You would never be able to rest again. You would become property, losing your freedom and sense of self. The worst that would happen to the others was death, maybe a little torture. They wouldn't be harmed for as long as you would be. They wouldn't be forced to live for an ancient, overpowered vampire.

You were thinking selfishly, you knew. There was nothing to gain from comparing your suffering to theirs. Fear was driving you to dark crevices in your mind where you started the process of giving up and feeling sorry for yourself. It was difficult to continue fighting when the outcome you wanted was nearly unattainable. Nonetheless, you had to maintain focus. If you weren't going to save yourself in the end, you could at least try to save those around you; this was more of a realistic goal. Christoph, you had already decided, was worth begging Alucard to save. You knew that at least one other would have to perish as a lesson, but you would try your hardest to ensure that it would not be him.

You sucked in a breath of cold, stale air and sighed longingly. "I'm sorry. I got emotional."

"The prospect of dying does that." Maverick drawled.

You shot him an agitated look. "It wasn't dying that made me emotional. I understand why you would have to kill me."

The French woman rose a thin brow. "You surprise me. You are okay with this?"

"I have to be." You replied stoically. "I don't want to be a vampire; I won't put up a fight."

"The power doesn't do it for ya?" Darcy teased. "Ya donnae want to be bound to one of the strongest beings in existence, grow your own skillset alongside him? Could have the world by the balls in no time."

"Hey guys; did we come here to do Dracula's bidding and snag him a bride or did we come here to stop Dracula and save (f/n)?" Christoph asked sarcastically, glaring at the witty archer.

You sighed, irritated with the conversation. "None of that is appealing to me."

"Why not?" Maverick tried. "As a dragon priest, you have a thirst for knowledge. Having a longer life would give you more time to learn. You can't tell me that the thought of having forever to watch the world unfold doesn't appeal to you."

You bit your lower lip. You were trying to be firm in your response to show them that there was no room for wavering. You hadn't wanted to discuss your latent desires with them. The truth was, immortality did sound quite good. Having an eternity to expand was a dream that you had shared with several of your comrades, as well. You supposed that it was in your nature to want unlimited life. They surely couldn't fault you for that. What mattered was that you did not consider vampirism a means to your goal. Your freedom was important to you, as was your mortality. You didn't want to be an undead being. You didn't want to worry about being hunted or feeling weak in the sunlight. Your identity was as important to you as the air you breathed.

"Look, it does sound appealing to me, okay?" You admitted begrudgingly. "But I can't justify giving up many good things to obtain one great thing."

The response seemed to satisfy the weariness inhabiting their minds. They must have been able to see through your lie. You would have to remember to be truthful in the future, even if it was uncomfortable.

"I hear ya loud and clear, lass. Good answer." Darcy piped. "Yer resolve is sturdy."

"Sounds like you don't want to be his plaything." Maverick remarked.

Christoph glanced back at the man with mild confusion. "Was that ever a question?"

"I was worried that she was unsure of what she wanted. Ancient vampires have a way of manipulating their victims with mind games a lot like this one."

"Like he did with Mademoiselle Mina." Bernadette mused. "Protective; he is always lurking nearby, whispering softly into your ear. Slowly hypnotizing you into needing 'im, into loving 'im."

"Mina was his first bride." Maverick clarified. "We have reason to believe that he had generated an unhealthy obsession with her, as well."

"She helped seal Alucard to the Hellsing family." You stated with a frown. 

You were familiar by now about the initial capturing of your assailant. He had been praying on mortals for hundreds of years before some men became privy to his actions. When they found that he existed beyond death, they plotted to end his treachery. What was originally a one-man team, consisting solely of Jonathon Harker, quickly became a troupe of capable others. Amongst them had been Abraham van Helsing, who had sealed the beast, and Mina Harker, who had been bitten by and forced to consume the blood of the beast. In memoirs recorded by Bram Stoker, who had adapted a novel based on the hunters' accounts, van Helsing had stated that he believed Alucard to have been enthralled by Mina. It was interesting to know that these speculations had likely been true, particularly given your own situation.

"Like an expensive heirloom, Alucard was passed down to members of the Helsing family, eventually gaining his freedom prematurely at Integra van Hellsing's side." Maverick recounted aloud.

"That's right. Alucard was killed and then preserved, sealed to the Hellsing family as a pet to do their bidding." You recounted. "I'm not familiar with how Mina died, though."

"She consumed some of his blood. She had vampire blood flowing through her veins because she consumed some of the bloodsuckin' bastard's blood." Darcy posited. "Until it was burned in a fire, her body was hauntingly well preserved. Sounds like the vampiric blood is still within her."

"Oui; no priest has been able to purify 'er since Dracula turned 'er."

"Could it be that the beast is searching for a new bride because he's finished mourning Mina?" Darcy contended.

"I second that." You concurred. "I think he's lonely."

"I think he's lonely and obsessive by nature." Christoph reworded. "He saw a prospective partner in (f/n) through her physical appearance and lineage. Then, as he got to know her in his castle, he spiralled into the throes of captivation."

"He's always been alone." Maverick reaffirmed. "Save for his fledgling, but she's not what he wants."

"(F/n) is a prospective partner because she's weaker than him. She's a dragon priest, not best of the best, and importantly, she's not a vampire. She's a challenge, and he likes a good challenge. A challenge helps him prove to his prey that they never had the choice of refusing to submit." The bespeckled mage looked distressed when he finally made eye contact with you. "He doesn't believe you have a chance in hell of prevailing. This is just a chance for him to break you before your capture."

It wasn't a shock that he didn't respect you as an opponent. It had been obvious. He wouldn't have wagered on something he thought he could lose. You weren't sure why Christoph was just now coming to such a revelation when it should have dawned upon him long ago. They had even discussed it earlier in the basement.

"I know that." You said simply. "That's why I'm here. He thinks himself invincible and he very well might be. If he isn't, then we have an opportunity to defeat him."

"It is dangerous." Bernadette sighed. "For us and you."

"You knew the risks when you agreed to meet with me." You scoffed, not willing to take the blame for a circumstance that could end in their demise.

"Aye, lass; risk of death isn't an issue for us." Darcy replied. "Do you think any of us signed up for this hog-wash bullshit vampire huntin' without drillin' it through our heads first that we could die? This profession dinnea allow for a leisurely life. Yer twisted if you think otherwise."

"We fight for vengeance!" Bernadette jeered. "Aside from Maverick, we 'ave each lost someone from that blood-sucking démone. It is this that makes us stronger than them. We must share our stories with you so that you are able to understand that our resolve is not that shallow."

The blonde man seemed disgruntled by this, insisting that they wait for Doc to arrive before delving deeper into their back stories. The back and forth went on for several minutes. Bernadette urged for him to agree, wanting desperately to move things along. The two of them were different in this way. Whereas the French woman was content with excluding her comrade in the present and filling him in later, Maverick voted to wait. He claimed that it would be disrespectful to exclude someone they had worked with for years.

"We'll start with or without yer approval, ya wee shite." Darcy huffed. "The fact of it all is, Doc should have been here half an hour ago at the latest. I dinnae see why we should respect his tardiness."

"Do whatever you want." The man grumbled in response, rolling his eyes before turning his attention to the nearest window. "But don't you think it's troublesome that he hasn't shown his face?"

"It is strange." Bernadette spoke softly. "But if something happened to 'im, he would have sent us a signal."

Darcy fished a pendant out from under her clothes to show you. A small pink pendant attached to a gold chain shone vibrantly. You felt the magical influence of the article almost immediately.

"This is how we communicate from a distance." She announced. "Ancient Dwemer devices we found while exploring a ruin."

The Dwemer were also known as dwarves. They had existed as a species many centuries ago, dying out due to unknown circumstances that were never documented. Much like the Mayans, they had left behind traces of advanced technology and fabulously sculpted ruins. Many of them were off limits to the general public, even as tourist attractions. Like the pyramids of Egypt, there were still some unexpected traps active that could prove fatal. You had learned a lot from their tomes about summoning magic and forging enchanted weapons. Though not much of a blacksmith, you had always found their teachings enthralling.

Darcy pressed her thumb against the jewel and in moments, it flowed faintly against her flesh. A low hum emitted from the accessory. Soon, the other necklaces in the room began to hum; even Christoph was equipped with one. You were impressed.

"Doc would have sent a signal like that to inform us of any trouble. He's fine, just inconsiderate." The fiery woman snarled at Maverick. "Can we get on with it now and let the eejit take his sweet time tricklin' in? You've already shared yer story. It shan't take long."

The blonde man paused, eyes focused on the ground in front of him as he weighed his options. In the end, he decided to conceded. He knew that there was no reason to fight Darcy and Bernadette on every poor decision they wanted to make. He would take his wins where he could take them and leave the smaller, less significant wins for them. He supposed that they would be able to catch Doc up on the conversation later, anyway. It was odd for the dragon priest to be late, however, signal or not. If he wasn't accounted for by the time the introductions were complete, they would have to arrange for someone to search for him.

The Scottish lady smirked triumphantly for a split second. Then, her face was morose. You watched her with mild interest, unsure as to what she would say. You didn't know what to expect from them; you didn't know what so brilliantly drove their hatred for the vampire that they would be willing to die to defeat him. You were enthralled in their potential reasoning. You had already decided, albeit unconsciously, to request their assistance in the permanent slaying of Dracula, so long as they would have you. It didn't matter regardless, you told yourself; they would either recruit you in a fight to save your life or kill you in an attempt to save your soul.

"My mother was in an orphanage, under the primary care of a man called Alexander Anderson." Darcy began.

"I know him!" You exclaimed. "He was also a priest for the Roman Catholic organization, Iscariot."

You had never done battle with the man, but you knew enough about him to have been weary of his skills. He had died shortly before Alucard had disappeared for a short pass of time; you had never gotten the opportunity to meet him. This was not saddening, of course. With everything you knew about him, the two of you likely wouldn't have done well in close proximity. You were quite sure that dragon priests had been as blasphemous as ghouls and vampires in his mind.

The organization he had been an active member of, Iscariot, was an old section of the Vatican, one that can't be found in most history books. Banned books, which had either been burned or hidden from public view, were more likely to outline the secret group in semi-correct detail. They operated similarly to Hellsing, though they did not actively employ or enslave vampires to fight alongside them. Anderson had been one of their primary trump cards and one of the only beings to be able to take on Alucard. He had regenerative powers that made him damn near invincible. In the end, he had perished at the hands of his greatest nemesis. It had apparently been quite a dramatic climax, according to the few eye witnesses who had lived to tell the tale.

Darcy flashed you a small, genuine smile, pleased that you were familiar with him. "He may not have been an all-around good man, but he did right by me Ma. He encouraged her, motivated her. She left the orphanage early and tried to make something of herself. Went to school. Learned to fight. Eventually became a member of the Thieves' Guild."

"Seems she did well for herself." You remarked.

"Aye. Still got knocked up at 17, though." The blonde laughed almost mockingly. "Anyway, Father Anderson was killed by Alucard. Ma swore that she would avenge him, but the poor maid died an early death."

"So you're fulfilling her wishes."

"What!? No, ya daft-- not her wishes, mine! I was born because the man helped me Ma out of a rut. I owe him vengeance. Besides, vampires have been a pain in me arse since I was a wee one. I'm not doin' all this for her."

It sounded as though Darcy had some resentment for her mother. You wondered what had happened between them to make the woman act as she did.

"From what I heard about Anderson's death, it sounds like Alucard mourned him." You mused. "Yet they weren't comrades."

It was no secret that Anderson, a renowned and deadly priest of a Catholic organization, and Alucard, an ageless, ancient being of a Protestant organization, had been nemeses; however, you had heard whisperings of people who claimed to have been present during their final battle. Indeed, these people had said that Alucard shed a tear or two over his demise. Perhaps it had been some sort of odd attachment they had formed with each other over the course of their distaste. On the other hand, maybe Anderson had been the one person who Alucard had been able to relate to. The corrupt priest had been capable of regeneration after being injected with experimental substances. This near immortality Anderson had possessed may have tricked the monster into thinking they were one in the same. This had likely served to plunge Alucard further into dark thoughts and desires.

"This is true." The blonde lady reaffirmed. "At some point, the crazy bastard probably dedicated his life to destroying Hellsing's power. Still, me blood burns for revenge. Even if Father Anderson didn't die unjustly by his hand, there are others who have."

"Mon oncle may 'ave been one of them."

You turned to look at Bernadette, who's face was contorted in pain. "May have?"

"Before I let Bern take over, I'll tell ye that I'm a member of the Thieves' Guild, like me ma. I use stealth and my bow. Sneak attacks." She winked at you humorlessly, something you perceived as a loose threat. "They never see me comin'."

You smirked at the confidence that exuded from the woman as she puffed her chest out proudly. Some may have labelled her as cocky, but you believed that she was merely aware of her strengths. You shifted to look at Bernadette, prompting her to share the misgivings she had harboured toward your shared nemesis. She was the most reserved and relaxed of the group, though also the least friendly so far. You were sure that there were reasons for this. It didn't bother you much; you weren't there to make friends, after all.

Darcy returned your simper before handing things off to Bernadette, who had waited patiently for her friend to finish. She looked hesitant to speak at first, likely choosing her words wisely as well as translating them from French to English in her head. 

"I misspoke earlier." She started. "I said that he was mon oncle, but he was a close family friend. He was like family to me."

You had had some friends in your lifetime who had been like siblings to you. You, like many others, were aware that family wasn't just blood.

"He worked closely with 'ellsing as a mercenary. 'is name was Pip Bernadotte."

"Alucard killed him?" You asked, unfamiliar with the victim's name.

"My family believes that the actions of that vampire killed 'im. Seras absorbed 'is life. If she 'as not killed 'im yet, he is still 'er familiar. That is no life to live. He should not suffer."

You couldn't agree more. It sounded like torture for a soul to waft between life and death. You supposed that Seras took after her master in methods driven by cruelty and selfishness. There was no other explanation for it. She may have been kind as a mortal, perhaps even innocent, but her time as Alucard's fledgling had made her calloused and keen to his ways. This was exactly as you would end up, should you be turned. It was haunting to think of how altered and decayed your state of mind would become over time. Try as you would to place barriers around your mind to prevent his probing, he would always find a way to slip in undetected. Chills ran up your spine at the mere thought of this. You had to dig your nails into your palm to focus on Bernadette's speech.

"I am a warrior. I also am un alchimiste and un enchanteur." The woman stated proudly.

You were a tad puzzled by the switch in language. It was a shame that you had never had the opportunity to master the French language.

"You're a warrior and you're..." You trailed off. "...an alchemist...?"

"I am..." She bit her lower lip, attempting to find the correct translation for her words. Her facial expression intensified. "How you say... I am..."

"She's an alchemist and an enchanter." Christoph clarified after a pregnant silence and an indication that the conversation would go nowhere if someone did not intervene.

"Oui, merci."

Alchemists were known to be good with herbs and chemicals. If talented enough, they could create elixirs to prevent aging and loss of stamina. Hell, they could even concoct potions that give the user increased resistance to specific elemental attacks. Enchanters, too, were quite talented. Weapons could be fortified to aid in strength, or to burn the target. Armours could be crafted to increase elemental resistance and to become lighter. Combining the utilization of both alchemy and enchantments was deadly, to be sure. The French lady before you was strong. Next to Maverick, she seemed to be the most put together and versatile of the group thus far.

"So your family seeks to avenge Pip Bernadotte?" You inquired, to which she nodded.

"And I want to free 'im if she 'as not." 

You were grasping her desires. Her true goal was to find Seras through her journey to destroy Alucard. The woman wanted answers. She wanted to determine if a member of her family was still in existence, and free him if this was the case.

"A noble cause." You acknowledged, not missing the small blush that dusted the woman's cheeks when you smiled reassuringly.

"Merci."

"Well, if we're all finished with the introductions, how about we track down Doc?" Maverick said almost immediately after the word had left Bernadette's mouth. "(F/n), you come with me and Bern. Christoph, I trust that you and Darcy can handle yourselves?"

The brunette shrugged. "Not sure. Not as sneaky as her. I'll hold us back. Maybe I should stay here?"

Darcy flashed him a menacing glare that was not missed by everyone in the room except the recipient. "Leave yer sarcasm at home next time, ya dolt."

"There's no need to organize a search party." A voice from behind made you jump.

Shifting, you came face to face with a man who towered well above you. His eyes, pale and vibrant like fresh honey, were only fixated on you. In the light of the fire, you could see his indifferent facial expression. It made you weary, how he had made his presence known with his voice rather than his energy. Even as you stood there, not more than five metres away from him, you couldn't sense his presence. This was obviously the dragon priest, Doc, that they had been waiting for, and he was galaxies stronger than you were.

"You're (f/n)," he whispered into your mind, away from the prying ears of his comrades. "Well met, sister."

"Well met." You replied cordially, though not verbally. "I was not expecting another dragon priest to be here. Are you an ancient one?"

"Close, but no. I see that I am well older than you, however."

You sensed that he was about your father's age despite not having the features to match. His skin was still youthful and his eyes shone as if he was still in his early twenties. 

"(F/n), meet Doc." Christoph introduced, unaware of the mental exchange that had occurred seconds before.

"Where 'ave you been?" Bernadette hissed aggressively. 

The dragon priest sighed, stepping further into the room until he chose to sit on a crate far from the blazing fire. His pitch black hair was wet from the snow and his tanned skin red despite his wool cloak. He hadn't bothered to create a ward around himself to prevent the weather from drenching him, wanting to experience the elements as they came. It helped him concentrate, the cold, and it didn't quite effect him the way it did mortals. Sure, his skin grew cold and red, but he never ran the risk of contracting frostbite until nearly a week of consistent exposure. This was one of the many perks that came with learning elemental magic across numerous decades.

"This land is not as it seems." He responded eerily. "I was taking my time exploring it when I came across a dog."

"A dog...?" You wondered aloud.

Ever since Alucard had transformed into a dog on a whim to trick you, you had grown cautious of animals. Four-legged creatures seemed to be his disguise of choice more often than not.

"It was Christoph's dog."

The mage perked up at his name. "Oh, Bosco?"

"Guess he followed ya all the way out here." Darcy commented with a coy simper. "Not the first time it's happened."

"Where is he?" Christoph asked, rolling his eyes. "Did he run off?"

"He's dead, actually."

Your eyes widened. "Alucard!?"

Doc detailed how he had come across the corpse of an animal on his way back to the Keep. He had only realized it was Bosco when he had touched it, memories of Christoph bringing the mutt with him to their early meetings flooding his mind. The dog had been split in two. It had been as though something had festered inside of him and then burst from his innards. There was no doubt that the vampire was behind this.

"Had either of you noticed the dog acting strange?" Maverick inquired.

"No more than usual." Christoph answered, visibly shaken by the news of his pet. "Jesus, guys... That was my dog."

You offered your hand for him to take, a sign of support amongst your former colleagues. He stared at it for a moment, hesitant, before finally accepting the gesture. It was the least you could do for him and the least showy of your ideas. Had the two of you been alone, you may have offered him a hug. The man looked as though he was on the verge of a breakdown.

"I mourn your loss." Bernadette muttered sincerely.

"Did Alucard try to reach you during your time at Christoph's home?" Maverick asked, skipping the condolences in favour of more important matters.

You were dazed, unsure of what to say. You had experienced that lucid dream that may not have been a dream, but you were unsure if you wanted to tell them this.

"Uh, not really." You stammered, indecisive.

"Good. Then this means Bosco was targeted after you left Arad or the vampire knows how to feign acting like a loyal pup."

"...and by not really, I mean yes." You relented softly.

Maverick glared at you with tired, frustrated eyes. You recognized that you had had a moment of weakness by lying, but the important thing was that you relented. It might be crucial for them to know, now that Bosco may have been involved. It was highly likely that Alucard had been able to come to you in your dreams easier while posing as the dog. It made you angry that he had been able to hide his energy so well and right under your nose. Moreover, it was embarrassing that another dragon priest had discovered the threat before you. A thousand conflicting little thoughts zipped through your skull at light speed as the blonde man clenched his jaw.

"...why didn't you say so?" He growled, evidently not a fan of childish indecisiveness or poorly-timed word play.

"I didn't think it was necessary information at first." You tried to defuse the situation with honesty in hopes that they would see you were doing your best to be reliable. "I fell asleep and he came to me in a dream that may not have been a dream. He was a wolf and he was taunting me through the window in Christoph's guest room."

"And were you present for this?" Bernadette asked the mage.

"No." He responded swiftly, still perturbed by the loss of his dog. 

You felt for him as you witnessed him go through several different emotions. Anger washed across his face, then disbelief, then grief, and finally back to anger again. He wasn't sure what he was feeling and it showed. You wondered when he had last lost someone important. It didn't matter, of course; it never got any easier.

"When I woke up, I rushed downstairs because he had threatened Christoph. We both went upstairs to the guest room and found claw marks on the window." You continued. "Could have been a coincidence. Maybe not."

"Definitely not a coincidence." Christoph whispered. "He was there with us."

"He was." You agreed. "I thought that the energy I was feeling from Bosco was yours."

He perked up at this. "I thought it was yours."

You wanted to slap the both of you, then. Christoph had noticed that something was off about the creature at around the same time you had. You two had written it off as the other person's influence, not even batting an eye.

"We let Alucard into your house." You admitted lowly. "Didn't you invite him to come in when we first entered from outside?"

Christoph nodded slowly. "I did."

"You cannae return there." Darcy stated firmly. "Ye know this, don't'cha?"

It was true. If the legends were correct, then Alucard was now permitted to freely roam the bungalow now that he had been asked to enter. It had been a clever ruse to get you to relax. He had heard and seen everything, including your removal of the bracelet. You were surprised that he hadn't intervened in some way, even while posing as the lovable house pet. He had been quite passive during his time in your presence, other than the window situation. He had, however, watched you change. Did he also know about what you had done in the shower, thinking about the very mage that stood before you now?

You gulped at that. He likely did. Even if you hadn't seen him, you knew well that he could still see you. A true creature of the night, he crept about in the shadows just below your awareness, watching and waiting to engulf you. Was he there with you now...? Would you be able to detect him if he was...?

"He is not present."

The dragon priest had read your mind. The fact that ones more powerful than you could now access your thoughts was yet another thing that made you vulnerable. It had started unconsciously and due to your stress, though it was persisting to a point where you had no idea how to protect yourself. Everything was dreadfully bleak and you were beginning to grow hopeless.

"You need to focus." Doc replied once again. "The vampire and I can read you because you let us. Fixate on something that calms you."

You did as you were told, blindly trusting him because he was simply one of your kind. You had no room to argue anymore, anyways. The image of (your favourite thing) popped into your head. Almost instantly, you were tranquil. Your shoulders collapsed from their tense, upright position and your gut unclenched. Your teeth stopped chattering and your heart slowed. 

"Good." Doc was smirking as he guided you wordlessly. "Now imagine a light blue, translucent veil surrounding your head and cast."

You had never tried this method before. Using a spell had always done the trick well enough that you hadn't bothered to fortify the technique. You murmured the words of the spell, casting your magic and creating the wall around your mind. Only time would tell if it was powerful enough to bar Alucard from entering. You smiled at Doc, grateful for his guidance. He returned your gesture for but a split second.

"He's near." The dragon priest said aloud. "He knows where we are but he won't attack."

"Yeah, I mean, how could he when he's busy killing dogs?" Christoph hissed sarcastically.

The group ignored him for the time being, knowing that he was merely expressing his pain the only way he seemed to be socially acceptable. No doubt he would have time later to properly express himself, but for now this was the only way. It was fine if he was disregarded. What mattered was that he got it out of his system.

"He won't attack because that would be breaking the rules of our game. It's too soon to collect his reward." You concluded, wincing as you thought about facing him when the time came.

"I disagree." Darcy proclaimed. "He may attack at anytime, lass. You've already broken some of his rules. There's nothin' stoppin' him from collecting."

You hadn't thought about this. You regarded him as a gentleman, as much as he was a monster. Though a trickster, you couldn't imagine him breaking his own rules even if you had first. From what you had seen, he was keen on reprimanding and teaching. Sooner or later, he would gripe about it; however you firmly denied that he would advance on you earlier than decided.

"He won't attack until my time is up." You insisted. "Just trust me."

"You going to leave out important details again?" Maverick countered with a raised brow.

You shook your head, barely stopping yourself from rolling your eyes. The jab was fair. You should have told them about Alucard's appearance at Christoph's home sooner. They were laying a lot on the line to hear you out and lend a hand. You didn't want to jeopardize them any further.

"I'm sorry." You offered.

"We're going to help you, girl." He said suddenly, not acknowledging your apology in the least. "Just promise me no more bullshit."

You nearly laughed. "Yes! Thank you!"

It was nice to no longer be on your own, fending for yourself and dreaming of a time where you had travelled with companions. All of you were in the same boat and all of you were driven toward the same goal. You all wanted to see Dracula die before he could grow stronger. In your case, he had to die, lest he get his claws on you. The punishments you would endure for breaking the rules, thinking of another man, and harming him would be beyond your darkest thoughts. He would humiliate you in any tasteless way he could think of. He would force you to do things that you weren't comfortable with to prove a point. You wouldn't have a choice beyond enduring what he subjected you to, your body and soul belonging solely to him.

"Don't think of such things." Doc's voice sounded in your head. "They're not relevant yet."

"We need to fill you in on our plan." Bernadette sighed. "But I am not sure 'ow. If he is watching, he is listening."

"Doc was obviously tell her using his telekinesis schtick." Christoph said passively.

"I can explain." Doc resounded, casting an odd look to Christoph. "I can communicate with her mentally. We've already started.",

Darcy marvelled at the two of you for a moment. "What? Really!?"

"Then we'll leave it to you." Maverick posited, standing up and heading toward one of the back rooms. "I'm going to get some shut eye. Just an hour or two."

"Same." Bernadette yawned, following suit. "I 'ad to wake up for this."

"I'll keep watch." Darcy called. "Take yer time restin'. If we notice the beast gettin' closer, we'll wake ya."

"I'm going to lie down, too." Christoph mumbled, trudging off toward the staircase opposite of the back rooms.

You promised yourself you would check on him when you finished with Doc, so long as nothing more pressing came up. He was worrying you. The once strong-willed man looked as though he had been shattered. That had been the point, to shatter him, of course. Alucard hadn't had to leave the corpse for Doc to find. He could have absorbed it and kept the disappearance of Bosco a secret. The ancient being was smart; he knew how to throw people off their game.

Once everyone had retired, the dragon priest locked eyes with you hastily. He walked you through many plans that had been devised as a group. There were various scenarios where one plan would work better than the others. All of the details were difficult to grasp, but you clung to them as best you could. The more you learned, the more your confidence grew. At the end of the mental exchange, you were no longer in bad spirits. You still held onto your doubts, however; these would be helpful for bringing yourself into reality when needed. They would assist you in staying focused and driven.

\----------

You made your way down the stairs, trying to feel where Christoph had gone. You couldn't pick him up, meaning that he had either strayed a little too far from the Keep or that he was hiding. Perhaps he didn't want to be found right now. People grieved in many different forms. Some craved the comfort of human touch or the nuzzling of a pet. Other desired to be simply left alone until they could stand to face others again. You could guess what type of person the mage was.

When you made it to the bottom floor, where the rickety door rattled on its hinges from the wind, you halted. It was so cold in here that you could see the moisture in the air gently flickering before your eyes, crystallizing. Much colder than the top floor, you clutches your jacket closer to your body and kept going. The quietness was eerie. The only sound was the wind whipping snow against the building and whistling through little crevices. No footsteps, no breathing, no life.

You slipped through the door nearest to the staircase, not keen on going outside. It would be easier for Alucard to capture you out there if he wanted to. God knew that the vampire was patient, but only to a certain extent. He wanted your body and mind to be fixated on him. He wanted to feed on you and only you. Most of all, he wanted you to serve him. As divided as you wanted to be on the topic, you still didn't buy that he would advance before the deadline. If the point of this was to manipulate you so that you were more ripe for his picking later, then he wouldn't have the gall to end things now. He would want to prolong it in hopes of increasing the damage he was doing to your head.

"You didn't have to come after me."

The abrupt voice made you cry out and jog backwards. You had been so caught up in your thoughts that you hadn't even noticed that you had stumbled upon Christoph's temporary bed. He looked horrendously upset, as though he had been sobbing. Red lines stained his cheeks and his eyes were puffy. The bed he had chosen didn't even have a mattress, favouring straw and a piece of cloth instead. He couldn't have been comfortable atop it.

You gathered yourself and breathed heavily, stepping back to where you had been seconds before. You willed your heart to stop pounding but your entire body was on alert. You couldn't believe that you had allowed yourself to be so distracted. You could have walked right into Alucard's long arms, had you been less fortunate.

"Ah, I, uh... came to say that I'm sorry about Bosco." You stammered, unsure if you should add anything more.

"Yeah." He mumbled, barely acknowledging your condolences. You imagined he was hurting pretty badly. No words could ease the pain of losing a beloved pet.

"Do you want to be alone?"

He didn't reply. His eyes lazily shifted from your own, locking onto an old wooden chair in the corner of the room. You remained in place for a few moments before concluding that you had been correct about him; he preferred to mourn on his own. Backing up, you offered him a small smile, the only thing you had to give, and turned away. You would likely try to sleep for the next few hours, if you could. Though, judging by the anxiety that was bubbling in the pit of your stomach, you didn't believe that rest would come easy.

"Wait," the brunette called.

You abided by his demand.

"Can you just sit and talk with me?" He asked shyly. "I know I'm a stranger and that you don't owe me anything, but I would really appreciate some normalcy."

It was a request that seemed fair and innocent enough for you to oblige. He had just proved you wrong. As strong as he appeared outwardly, he did need comfort during times like these. It was interesting that just when you believed you had him figured out, he did something that broke through the stereotype you had built for him.

You strode over to the bed as he adjusted into a sitting position, his legs dangling off the bedframe. The truth was, you hadn't felt like a stranger to the man since he had removed that bracelet and lulled your anxieties. At that moment, you had regarded him as your friend. It had been simple to trust him, the goodness within him practically seeping from his pores. He came off as an eccentric jerk, but that wasn't who he was. You knew that there was a deeper side to his personality. There was also the incident where he had seen you partially nude. That had given you a glimpse of his values, indicating that he was a respectful individual worthy of being relied on.

There was a lot about Christoph that you really liked. Had things been different, had you met earlier or while you had been on some mission, you may have considered dating him. He was a grown, experienced man with a boyish charm and a youthful face. Smart well beyond his years, it was a waste for him to have no been born with an ounce of dragon priest lineage within him.

He ran a hand through his messy brown locks as you took a seat next to him. His beard, course and well groomed, made him look more mature than he was, coupled with his reddened eyes and wrinkled forehead. He rubbed his eyelids, removing his glasses and placing them on the floor. You pressed a hand against his back, rubbing it gingerly. He leaned into your touch, groaning lightly.

"You don't have to stay and comfort me if you want to sleep." He grumbled as you embraced him.

"It's no trouble." You asserted. "This is crazy."

"No crazier than a mage, two dragon priests, an archer, an alchemist, and a mercenary joining forces to kill a vampire that literally just ripped my dog in half."

You pursed your lips together, not sure if you should laugh or maintain the silence. It sounded ridiculous, all of these people showing up and getting along to vanquish an evil that the world didn't even know was present. With or without your input, the mage continued on a heated rant.

"I can't believe he killed Bosco. Who does that? I get why he would hate humans, but a dog? Bosco probably didn't even put up a fight; the damn thing was too docile."

"I'm sorry I didn't notice sooner. There's no excuse. As soon as I had that dream, I should have thought about the energy emitting from Bosco." Your face was pained. "I should have asked you about it."

"We both should have asked about it." He clarified. "I fucked up, too. It's not all on you. You're already doubting yourself because of this asshole."

You couldn't have agreed more. It helped that he knew you hadn't been secretive, just doubtful of your own abilities. It was difficult, however, when people you had encountered just once were perishing at the hands of Alucard. Everyone you involved in this situation would die or become hurt; there was no avoiding it. You just hadn't expected him to slaughter a poor, defenseless pup to get to you. It made your stomach churn, thinking of how serious he was about obtaining you.

But you couldn't think too hard about that right now. You couldn't be selfish. You weren't the only one suffering; Christoph was the chief priority.

"You know, I just remembered something." You said, electing to change the topic before you both spiralled. "You didn't bother introducing yourself upstairs."

Christoph's right eye twitched as he shrugged. "You already know the basics. There's not much else to say."

"Sure there is; you're a complex man." You retorted. "I only know about the parts of your life that have come up in relevant conversations. I don't really know you."

He hummed in response, contemplating your words carefully. Just like you, he considered you a friend since you had shown your true colours within his abode. It felt as though he had known you for years. On top of that, he hadn't known that you wanted him to share details about himself. For most who he interacted with, it was strictly business. Another part of him couldn't believe that you, of all people, had taken an interest in learning of him. He cautioned himself against excitement, however; he knew that your engrossment was only temporary.

If you managed to succeed and destroy your opponent, you would inevitably leave Arad behind forever, wanting nothing to do with anyone you had worked with here. On the other hand, if you weren't able to win Alucard's twisted game, the vampire would gladly collect you as his bride and kill them all. You probably thought that begging would prevent such a tragedy, but this was naiveté at its finest. Alucard would never allow them to survive his final attack, particularly not him. As Bosco, he had likely been present for Christoph's fleeting glances and self-depracative grumbling. He knew that there were some pre-emptive feelings surrounding the two of you, perhaps just one-sided but feelings nonetheless. The beast would never allow a man after your affection to live. No -- you were his bride; he would be damned if he didn't show you and the others what he did to those pining after his possessions.

Shuddering, the mage refused to think of it any further. There would be plenty of time to worry about his fate when he finished talking with you. This was supposed to be a break from the stress, this conversation. 

"When I was studying to be a mage, I almost got expelled from the college." He stated with feigned pride. "I accidentally casted a spell that turned my classmate green. Turned out to be irreversible."

You covered your mouth with your hand, intrigued. "You did what?"

He laughed. "Let me explain."

He spoke with you at length about his time at the college and all of his major blunders. He hadn't always been a good mage. From there, he divulged into topics regarding his upbringing, his family, and the few friends he had managed to keep. He lamented about his time as Youssef's friend, as well as how he came across Bosco, keeping you on the edge of your seat. A fantastic storyteller, you were entranced within seconds. By the time you felt your eyes drooping, it was too late for you to stir yourself into consciousness.

You fell asleep on his shoulder as he talked, his voice lulling you into a deep rest where Alucard was waiting patiently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Some more mage lovin' avec long-winded planning and some important context for plot development. I know it reads a little more like a novel (a little dry and a little long), but I appreciate you bearing with me for the upcoming good parts ;)
> 
> I hope everyone is healthy and safe 😊 Don't forget to wear masks outside if you're in a high risk area, and if you're getting involved in the ever important protests happening across the world!


	10. Chapter IX: The Attack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alucard is approaching and you have to get a little risky. High sexual tension beyond your dreams and the fight of your life will ensue. People die, just not the important ones.
> 
> Trigger warning for attempted rape.

You should know better than to sleep during the hunt."

His voice tickled the skin on the back of your neck as he traced his tongue along your skin. His gloved hands rubbed your forearms as he pressed himself against you, pushing your face deeper into the mattress. He was so close to your neck, the exact place he had told you many times that he wanted to bite. He was holding himself back, once again, merely by hovering close without acting.

He planted a kiss on the spot of his preference and brushed his lips along the length of your neck. You felt the tips of his fangs depress into your skin just enough to gently sink into the first few layers of your skin. It was never enough to break through completely, as he feared the taste of just one drop would drive him into a frenzy that could not be ceased. It was the taste of your skin and the scent of your natural body that fueled his lust, and the blood pulsing through your veins that maintained his careful devotion to being your lover until otherwise specified.

You didn't struggle beneath his weight. You weren't paralyzed by the horror that came with Dracula attempting to mate. You weren't quivering at the thought of letting the beast inside you. You weren't even perturbed by the notion that he could make you give into him this night, working your body until you were utterly delirious. On the contrary, you almost wanted to indulge in his wishes. You wanted to feel his experienced gloved hands rake up and down your naked body. Most of all, you wanted to finally let go and give up this silly chase. You were tired -- tired and wanting.

Nevertheless, despite the hopelessness and wild abandon that accompanied your arousal, something in your mind wouldn't let you do it. Even in an enticing dreamscape, there was still the presence of reason, instances to remind you of your goal. Even the tiniest of things, such as the darkness that flared up in his red eyes for but a split second, were enough to thrust you into the realization that this couldn't happen in real life. If he caught you in reality, he would do far worse than this. He wouldn't have any regard for your comfort. There would be no soft kisses or build up to an orgasm. There would be rough tugging and restraint, unheeded protests, and your inevitable domination. Being Alucard's bride would introduce you to an entire new level of exhaustion that would far exceed that which you currently felt.

These revelations were what would save you when your dream ended; they would always serve to motivate you. Still, you convinced yourself that giving into your carnal wishes in a plain of existence above reality was different; here, you could do things that you ordinarily would not -- manipulated under his influence or otherwise.

This is what you convinced yourself as he worked you over in his grip, turning you over so that he could see your face when he removed your underwear. He hummed in amusement upon seeing all of you, running a finger up and down the middle of your chest as he admired the sight before him. Your body felt locked in place, as if invisible ropes encircled your limbs from moving accordingly. Whether you were frozen in terror and anticipation or truly bound didn't matter, however, as you reminded yourself for the umpteenth time that this was merely a bad dream.

"They say that dreams are the gateway into the recesses of one's mind." He mused. "I find it hard to believe that you would not let this occur in reality."

"Many have dreams of harming others, but they wouldn't do such a thing in reality." You countered.

"Hm, yes, but consider..." He drawled in a voice laced with passion. "Murder is illegal, as is unprovoked physical violence. Intimacy between two magnificent beings is acceptable. You are to be my bride, after all."

"But consent--"

"Consent!" He laughed cruelly, stroking your chin softly as he often did. "You were just rationalizing the enjoyment you feel from my touch in your head. You want this."

"No."

"It never ceases to amaze me how you deny yourself of pleasure. I can be a generous lover, priest, and it's been so long since you've been touched."

"I don't need your touch. I don't want it."

His hands cupped your breasts, massaging them gingerly as his red eyes bored into you. Your face was flushed and your chest felt heavy. You could barely breathe with all of the stimulation he was delivering. His fingers found their way to your nipples, giving them both a rough squeeze that made you yelp. He pressed a kiss against your neck, growling at your reaction. He loved that he could control which sounds emerged from your throat, that he could inflict such pain unto you in your own dream.

Aggressive tugs turned into the slow rolling of your nubs between his thumb and forefinger. You were oversensitive and it was hard to resist the pleasure. A part of you didn't care to, in fact. Moans slipped from your parted lips as you lulled your head back and allowed him to do as he pleased. 

"You don't want this?" He leered before claiming your lips.

He was working you over; this was evidently his ploy. You didn't know how he had managed to permeate your defenses. Perhaps you had let him in without conscious awareness, allowing him to roam the recesses of your stressed mind, slowly inflicting you with his desires. There was no way to tell and quite frankly, it no longer mattered. He had locked onto his prize with such fever and viciousness; he would never release you now that he had you. In this dreamscape, he had more than enough power to relentlessly mold you into exactly what he wanted.

"Not just here," he replied to your thought. "I can influence you regardless of your conscious state."

"That's not true." You groaned as he lowered his mouth onto yours, pressing his fangs against your lip before giving into the kiss itself.

"Isn't it?"

And that was what caused some semblance of reality to sift back into your being; it was the fact that you knew he was bluffing. You knew that he was baiting you for information and mental submission. He could influence you but only if you allowed him to do so from a distance, or if he claimed your attention in closer quarters. He wanted you to believe that you were vulnerable at all times, that you could do nothing to resist him.

When you let your guard down, he wafted into your head undetected though this seemed to be contingent on a few things. First, it helped that you were unconscious and even then, he could only really read your mind in your dreams. Furthermore, you still weren't sure if he was orchestrating these nightmares or if they were a product of you own filthy mind; both of these possibilities were equally as frightening. What's more, it was entirely possible that he was exerting power over your already fragile state, further exacerbating the effects of his influence. This inference was exceptionally plausible given that he was came to you more so in lucid-like dreams.

Next, he seemed to boast about the power he had to enter your mind in a manner that was to merely convince you; he knew better. 

It dawned on you then that what you were currently experiencing was a nightmare and nothing more. The content may be unchangeable by your hand, but waking up could be accomplished with some effort. There was no way that he could keep you unconscious if you truly had the drive to awaken. At that moment, you drew all the power you could muster to stop him from reading your thoughts and waited for him to notice. It was safe to try this now, of all other times, if this was really a dreamscape. He couldn't physically harm you if he wasn't close enough in reality, and how could he be presently? There were hunters surrounding you unless you had been moved after closing your eyes. You were, in some way of the word, safe.

What a glorious word.

Safe.

He pressed his lips against your stomach, trailing down further and further until he was just above your womanhood. His warm breath blew against your section, making you quiver uncontrollably, but that's when it all fell apart.

He stopped his motions, one of his hands freezing just before it reached your nub. He stayed like that for a while, breathing slowly and seeming to consider the situation at hand. You almost smiled when his head rose to meet your gaze. Instead of his regular cocky expression, you witnessed one of absolute fury. His red eyes were deeper and more hypnotizing than usual and he was grinning like the predator he was. The only time he had ever appeared to you like this was the last time he had halted himself from ravaging you at his castle. There was rage, hunger, and something equivalent to betrayal.

He probably hadn't meant to react this way. Like every other time, he had likely attempted to keep his cool when you outsmarted him. He had to show you that he was unshakable if he wanted you to submit to him, after all. This was a total fluke. By resisting, you had ignited something within the depths of him, something that made him relinquish control of himself. You didn't know what the outcome of this endeavor would be, but you did like the taste of small victory. For the first time since you had battled with him near his castle, you had been able to triumph over him. It was a powerful feeling that you were grateful to feel thanks to the lucidity of the dream.

"Do you realize what you've done?" He asked darkly.

You noticed that his form was becoming more and more transparent atop you, as though you had cast a gradual invisibility spell. You both seemed to be surprised at what was happening. Still, he growled like the beast he was, desperate to exert strength over you as you willed him from your mind.

"Every time you resist me, every minute you spend exerting effort and time into blocking me from accessing you, I am drawn closer to you."

He fought against your prowess, refusing to leave without a fight. As you worked to bar him, you felt the influence of another providing assistance. You didn't know who it was, though you had a hunch it was one of the magically-inclined hunters. They had likely felt a disturbance in your energy as you slept, or perhaps one of them had been monitoring you to disrupt Alucard from haunting your sleep. You gasped as the vampire gripped your chin, the texture of his glove scratching your skin from the ferocity in which he grabbed you.

"I'll kill them all," he vowed with a deadly smirk. "They won't keep you from me."

You slapped his hand away effortlessly, and god did it feel good to do so. With the last few seconds he had with you, it was only appropriate to tear him down. You didn't want him thinking that you were weak and unaware again. Enough was enough. If he was to pursue you, he would treat you as no less than an equal.

"You believe yourself to be stronger than me with little evidence." You said mockingly finding your empowerment through words.

"Oh?"

"You've defeated me in unfair circumstances twice. You continue to appear in my dreams, claiming to have power over me, and yet you don't know of our plan to end you."

"I've grown tired of going easy on you, pet." He warned.

"If you really wanted to capture me, you would have already." You dismissed him confidently. "I think you're too intimidated to face me on equal ground, but that will change whether you like it or not."

During his final moment in your dreamscape, he stared at you with the most vicious expression you had ever witnessed on a being. You sat up and matched his malice, his weight no longer impairing you.

"All rules are suspended as of now." He said lowly. "I'll wait for you no longer, my pretty little priest."

You had known the risks of defying him. You had known that calling him out and barring him in the midst of his torture would boil his blood enough to accelerate his game. This wasn't the worst outcome, albeit it was bad.

"Alucard." You murmured, voice dripping with hate as you swung your legs over the side of the bed and wrapped the bed sheet around your bare body.

A hand grasped your shoulder just as you watched the last of him fade. The grip was gentle but firm, making you jump. It wasn't Alucard; you could tell by the person's warm energy. You had nothing to fear until you woke up, having banished the creature from your mind with a newfound ease you hoped you could replicate in the future.

Things were happening at a hazy light speed that was making your head spin. First, you had been ready to give in, eager to end the chase. The prospect of relaxing and letting go of yourself had been enticing for but a moment. Then, you came to the realization that he had been manipulating you beyond your awareness in a manner that you hadn't expected. All powerful and all knowing, the vampire had deceived you into thinking that he was akin to a God, that you could never truly escape his prying senses. You had to admit that he was an excellent liar.

"You took a risk and it paid off, eh? Knew you could do it." The person behind you praised.

You recognized the voice without having to turn around. It was none other than the very mage you had fallen asleep on. He had been your guardian angel during your nightmare. He had lender you the strength required to recover splendidly and get your head back in the game. Despite being naked, you bore no humiliation when you whipped around to greet him with bright eyes.

"You're here!" You exclaimed happily.

"Yeah," he shrugged. "Been watching over you since you fell asleep in the middle of my stories. Couldn't sleep, myself. Besides, it was worth it to see the look on that bastard's face when you kicked his ass out of this plain."

You smiled. "You're always there to pull me out of trouble."

It was the truth, and you couldn't stress it enough. In mere hours, the mage had become a beacon of safety for you. He had crept past your walls and defenses and continued to put his life on the line for you. It made you feel strange. There were so many emotions pumping through your brain, most of them positive.p

"Just keeping my word to help you out. Now, wake up -- we've got to tell the others what just happened."

You wondered how long he had been hovering around. Had he seen you at your most vulnerable, writhing beneath an utter monster? There was a difference between telling him of the vampire's vicious deeds and having him witness them with his own eyes. Nonetheless, if he was bothered by the ordeal, he didn't let on.

"What did just happen?" You muttered, shaking your head hazily. "I feel... strange."

He scoffed. "Well, this is a lucid dream."

You supposed he had a point. It was hard to figure out what was and wasn't a dream these days; realities were blending together. If you didn't catch yourself, you could fall into a permanent delirium. You closed your eyes and grimaced.

Now wasn't that a dreadful thought -- madness. A dragon priest's worst nightmare.

\----------

You gasped, jutting up from the bed and panting like a dehydrated horse. Your hands gripped the sheets as if you believed you would have slid off the mattress if you didn't secure yourself. (E/c) eyes were wide in horror and exhaustion, the dark circles only highlighting your unhealthiest features. Your head whipped back and forth before your finally settled on the silhouette sitting across from you. It was still dark outside, meaning you hadn't been resting long. The cold, dank interior of the stone tower resembled your former prison in Alucard's abode. This did nothing to calm your quickened heartbeat.

The figure rose to its feet and treaded across the room to greet you. You immediately knew that there was nothing to fear. It could be none other than the man who helped you achieve dominance in your most recent dream. Your lips trembled as his features came more into focus, as you strained your eyes to search for him in the dark. His glasses were off and situated somewhere out of sight. Even in the shadows, he was handsome. He extended a hand for you to take, which was much obliged, and when he pulled you up from the bed you encircled your arms around him in an affectionate embrace. It didn't take him long to do the same, though you didn't miss the hesitation that possessed him for a few careful moments.

"Thank you so much for that." You murmured into his clothed chest, tightening the hug.

"It was all you," he replied characteristically. "I only lended you some magic."

It was a bittersweet time. On one hand, you had found the strength you needed to overcome thoughts of forfeiting to Alucard. On the other, an ever present danger was looming -- it could even already be present. You disentangled yourself from Christoph and stepped back. 

"We need to tell them about the dream." You said firmly. "I'm just not sure how to explain it."

The mage spun on his heel and matched toward the staircase, toting you behind him. "Do the best you can. I'll fill in the blanks."

The entire structure felt still. The fire continued to crackle and spit on the top floor despite at least two members turning in for the evening. Christoph had heard Maverick wander off during your slumber, likely to gather more wood or to clear his mind with a walk and a cigarette. It appeared that the man hadn't been able to sleep after all. Doc and Bernadette were quite the contrary. After filling you in on several variations of the plan to kill Alucard, the dragon priest had promptly fallen onto his bed and remained in a restful state. You figured he hasn't slept in a few days, like the lot of them. Bernadette, too.

When you reached the top of the stairs, Darcy was seated on the edge of her seat, tending absently to the blaze. She perked up at the sight of you. The dark circles beneath her eyes were rather telling.

"I thought ye were asleep. Too cold for ya?"

"Not as cold as your heart, but close enough." Christoph countered unnecessarily.

The Scottswoman reached for her bow in serious frustration, the mage having carelessly ignited her short fuse. You didn't know what sort of history the two of them had, if any at all, but you surely didn't want to get involved.

"I've had just about enough of you, lad." She spoke softly and with intended threat.

You held up your hands to stop the carnage from breaking out, hating that the man could never seem to keep his mouth shut. "Wait! No! Not yet!"

"Hey, what do you mean 'not yet'?" Christoph asked in mock offense.

"Something just happened." You shouted vaguely, and then more specifically: "Alucard is on his way right now."

The woman's eyes widened and she mobilized immediately. "What happened, lass!? What do ya mean!?"

You outlined your nightmare, embarrassing aspects and all, so that she could grasp your concern. As you detailed the dream, her eyes darted back and forth between you and Christoph. She was generating an opinion of what had occurred, as if trying to determine if it was a real threat. She obviously didn't know the vampire as well as you did. You knew well that it wasn't an empty promise. You knew that he would most definitely make a surprise visit at any time now, except this time he wouldn't just slaughter a dog. This wasn't time to consider if turmoil would ensue; this was a time for preventative matters to be implemented.

After hearing what the two of you had to say, Darcy rushed into the back room to wake her comrades. She explained to them an abbreviated version of your tale, urging them to rise with urgency and prepare for battle. Doc seemed dazed and conflicted about the suddenness of the endeavour, while Bernadette appeared to function properly with a little stress and unrest.

"Où est Maverick?" The woman asked calmly.

"I'm here; what's going on?"

The hunter emerged from the staircase in a hurry, likely having heard the commotion from the entrance. You spun around to greet him, happy that he had been able to make it back in time. His shotgun was slung over his back and his toque was damp from the storm brewing outside. His eyes, always measured and calculating, revealed a degree of excitement. It was evident that he had been waiting for something interesting to happen.

"Christoph and (f/n) pissed off the night creature," Doc sighed grumpily.

"He was aggressing on me," you sneered.

Maverick raised a brow. "He's here?"

Christoph threw his hands in the air. "Who knows? This fucking guy has a way of showing up when you least expect it."

"Where were you, anyway?" Bernadette questioned her formerly absent comrade. "I thought you were going to sleep."

The blue eyed man shook his head. "Couldn't sleep. Went for a walk."

"Could've picked up some more firewood while ya were out there." Darcy commented.

"I shouldn't have left at all, to be honest."

Maverick's final remark struck you as odd, though the man himself was an enigma. You didn't rack your brain about it further, assuming you were merely paranoid. A healthy degree of paranoia was good in this situation, but too much could have you questioning those trying to assist you.

You allowed Doc's voice to flutter into your mind, past the prying ears of the others. "He's acting normally. Be on your guard, though; we are dealing with the master of trickery."

"Shall we see if we can detect him?" Christoph asked, already preparing to do exactly that.

"The priests can give it a shot." Darcy suggested, knowing that regular mages had less range when it came to foresight.

You and Doc looked at each other.

"Shall we?" He smiled, offering you his hand.

You accepted it, giving him a firm squeeze. "Let's go."

You closed your eyes and whispered a spell that allowed you to detect life force within a moderate radius. Something with wings was preferable, but you would take what you could get. This technique granted you the opportunity to briefly utilize the body of a lesser creature, such as a wolf or a rabbit. It was useful when you wanted to scope out an area. 

You captured the body of a heron with ease, wrapping your energy around its mind only temporarily to gain the advantage of flight. You steered the animal away from Fellglow Keep, where it had been headed, in favour of searching to the North of the tower. You could only maintain the connection for a specific distance before your bond with the creature weakened, so you had to be careful. At the first sign of dwindling or danger, you would discontinue the spell.

"I've got a bird." You spoke to the hunters, watching in awe as you took on the heron's sight.

"I managed to find a wolf." Doc chimed in.

The northern part of the land was much like every other direction; there was too much forestation. You had never equated Romania with this many spruce trees. You flew lower, so that you had a better view between the canopies. All the while, you felt around for any atypical forces of nature that exuded the darkness so characteristic of Dracula.

"Nothing to the North." You muttered, curving the bird to search the Eastern grounds.

"Nothing West, either."

You spotted something out of the ordinary then. To the naked eye, nothing was strange about the darkness looming about a set of particularly thick forest. From an outsider's perspective, it would have looked like the hulking trees casting a grand shadow. To your trained eyes, however, the shadow was emitting a radiant, deadly energy as it worked its way to the Keep, moving at a snail's pace that was barely perceivable.

"Doc!" You gasped. "Head East from the Keep!"

"On my way." He replied swiftly.

"There are shadows about thirty-four metres from our location. They're advancing at a leisurely pace."

"A ploy." Darcy hummed, interested.

"Another game." Bernadette agreed.

You stilled the heron so that it was flapping in place and at a safe distance from the eerie monstrosity. It didn't take long for Doc to join you on the ground. He instantly reaffirmed your hunch that something wasn't at all right about the darkness. 

"He's taken on no form. He's relying on the shadows until he arrives." The dragon priest uttered.

"Does he intend to make us wait, then, like cattle?" The archer snarled.

"We are cattle." The French woman groaned. "All who are not undead are cattle to 'im."

Christoph had his hand on his chin, his fingers running through his course beard hair as he deliberated. There were several plans that had been organized around an event such as this, wherein Dracula came to devour them all. He didn't have a clue which one he would use. The way the hunters had organized things worked so that each individual had two plans that they kept to themselves in the event that the group plans went to Hell. Had the rules been suspended yet? Would he have to determine how he would survive, as an individual, while also defending you?

His gaze shifted to Maverick, who appeared to be about as concerned as a rock. The man was too stoic for his taste but goddamn was he smart. It made sense that he was the unanimous, unspoken leader of the group. He had survived this long in the occult business with his battle prowess, critical thinking, and strategizing. He had more than earned everyone's respect.

"What are you thinking?" The mage inquired softly. "What should we do, Mav?"

The blonde perked up at his name, though he didn't look at the brunette. He was too fixated on you and Doc.

"I'm thinking." He whispered.

You and Doc returned to your own beings after scaling Alucard's shadowy abyss. It was about the size of a small house. God knew why it was travelling so slowly, but you had a hunch that there was some significance to it. When you opened your eyes, the first person you saw was Christoph. Quickly averting your gaze, you didn't miss the small smile that tugged at his lips.

Doc released your hand with haste, throwing his body toward the nearest window and looking out in the direction of the mass. As anticipated, it wasn't visible from the Keep. If Doc didn't know any better, he would have said that the shadows did not actually incorporate the vampire, that he was using the technique to draw attention away from his true movements. When he has been utilizing the rabbit's body, though, he had felt him. It was unlike any other power he had ever felt. It was strong and violent, frigid and unforgiving. It held decades upon decades of grudges and it did not comprehend the act of mercy. He was one hundred percent certain that Alucard had been somewhere within the abyss, plotting. Deceptive as he was, he couldn't fool a seasoned dragon priest.

"We shouldn't operate on the assumption that he'll continue at this pace." You informed, to which Doc nodded.

"Did Doc fill you in on the most recently developed plan?" Maverick asked abruptly, still staring at you with critical eyes.

He had. You didn't necessarily like the idea of it, but you could already understand why it was one of the best options to take. Part of it involved placing you in a vulnerable position in the courtyard of the Keep, tied to an old wooden pole which had formerly supported a watch tower. This could increase the chance of Alucard speeding up his journey to you, if he noticed that you were being used as such delectable bait. 

There was also your individual plan, if all else failed. This initiative was purely selfish and immensely ballsy. It was a sure way for you to accidentally succumb to the vampire's desires for eternity, in fact, but it was also the most creative and effective plan you had been able to muster. You had yourself covered if you could manage to pull it off, though you desperately hoped that you wouldn't have to go such a route.

"I did." The dragon priest answered for you as you sifted through your worrisome thoughts.

"I can see this going one of two ways; both end poorly for us." Maverick grimaced. "But we signed up to kill him. Even if we lose our lives here, you can still achieve that, (f/n)."

Bernadette nodded. "That's right."

You knew what they were referring to. You had discussed an alternative plan with Doc earlier that allowed their wish to come true, regardless of whether they lived. He wouldn't kill you -- at least, not permanently. If you were able to keep your bearings to even a small extent, you could potentially carry out their duties years after their demise. It was a slow-burn plan. It would take a lot of nerve and patience that you weren't sure you possessed. The uncertainties of being within Alucard's presence for months of end also added a complication to the scheme. Moreover, this plan didn't allow for a prime opportunity to save your comrades.

"I won't argue." You said. "I can do it."

You doubted that Alucard would agree to spare any of them if things went sour, but you owed it to Christoph to try. You had vowed to save him as he had worked to save you. Once a stranger and now a friend, it wasn't fit for him to die.

"Don't think of it like that," Doc's voice tickled your senses. "We are all doing this because we know we must defeat a hostile evil. Christoph was aware of the danger, though to a lesser extent prior to your arrival."

During your time downstairs, the mage had told you about his dealings with the hunters and how he had come to help them. They had reached out to him, pleading for guidance regarding an ancient text they had found. The text turned out to be fake but they had appreciated Christoph's work so greatly, that they had offered him a position on their team. He had turned it down at first, having been involved with a woman at the time, but soon relented after their breakup. You recalled his words curiously.

"It just made sense one day." He had mused. "I had nothing to lose from saving people from the occult."

It must have clicked for him that there was actual, imminent peril to his fight alongside the hunters. He had never come so close to dying in the past. A few close shaves here and there couldn't ever compare to the threat he was facing today. Even though he signed up for this and even though he had been prepared to die for his cause, it was different when doom was impending.

"I'm sorry." You said suddenly, casting a glance at Christoph.

The mage grunted. "Haven't we been over this?"

You no longer had anything to apologize to the hunters for; they had been anticipating this. You had only hastened their fate. They were destined to slaughter the vampire well before you had arrived. Christoph was a little different. He was more of a mortal than all of them despite his magical inclination; he was terrified of dying. He would never admit it, though you could see it within him. Just as you were quite flippant with your emotions, unconsciously confiding in him all of your anxieties and misfortune, he was being opaque with you.

The others couldn't see what you could in him; they could only tell that he was on edge. You caught his eyes with your sharp gaze, communicating more passionately with a stare than you could ever attempt with words. You felt your heart pounding from both adrenaline and affection for your new friend.

"Yeah," you smirked, though the playfulness in your tone wasn't genuine. "Just wanted to reiterate."

\----------

When you thought of ancient schemes that had exponentially failed in the past, tying a person to a wooden pillar as bait came to mind. Yet there you were, your wrists bound together behind you with ropes crafted to suppress the energy of even the greatest mages. Your legs were free, so that you might have your feet as a means of attack if you got supremely desperate. No appendage on your being could possibly damage an ageless vampire, however. You were completely vulnerable and at the mercy of both the hunters and your opponent. There was method to this madness, though. You understood why it had to happen. Nonetheless, your stomach was clenched anxiously and your skin barely registered the cold anymore.

They had fitted you in a white night dress that barely crept across your knees, with lace lining that tickled your naked thighs. Your feet were clad in the same boots you had brought with you, though the mesh, thigh-high socks to match the gown had been lent to you by Bernadette. The ensemble gave you an elegant appearance -- not that you cared. This wasn't the time to look prim and proper, and you didn't care to come off as such to the likes of him. You had to set aside all of your pride to wear this. It didn't make you feel confident in the least. You hoped that everyone present was prepared to see you nude when your dress inevitably flipped up in the wind when combat began.

"Remember, lass," Darcy muttered as she circled your form to ensure that everything was in place. "If things go south, we may have to kill ya where ya stand."

You sighed. "Y-yeah."

You didn't think it would come to that. As much as you wanted to die over being turned into an undead creature, you didn't think Alucard would allow it. At this point, you were nearly certain that you would have to resort to your individual plan. 

You were in the middle of the courtyard. Situated in the crumbled tower closest to you was Christoph; you felt added safety knowing that he was close. He had reassured you that he would be the first on the scene if it called for it. It didn't make you feel relieved to know that he would be the first to perish if things went sour and you remained bound. Bernadette was standing by close to him, ready with healing agents and a battle axe.

Maverick was in the lower level of the Keep with Doc, who was dedicated to scoping out the beast's location. They would emerge from a trapdoor several metres away when the time came. The depths of the Keep's basement turned out to be infested with chaurus, insect-like creatures that resembled giant centipedes. They had managed to dig through the walls and create miniature passageways to travel through. The Keep was warmer than the outside, so it was likely they had been trying to find shelter. Clearing them had been simplistic, albeit hard work. Their hard outer shells made them formidable adversaries.

Once she was done inspecting you, Darcy would move to the position she had established upon you and Christoph's initial arrival. A sneaky, ranged warrior, you believed that she was the most formidable person to take on Alucard other than Maverick, who was a different, versatile combatant. Darcy had a secret weapon that she could utilize within a moment's notice; this is what made her your beacon of hope.

To finalize the plan, you and Doc were working under the radar to suppress your comrades' energy and make them barely detectable. Your bindings repressed a lot of your skills, but you had just enough for this. The element of surprise would be useful if it was pulled off properly. All that was left to do was wait for the man of the hour to emerge from the forest. It was fortunate for him that the skies were stormy. If sunlight depleted his powers or weakened him, it would be of no consequence today; when he finally came to you, he would be at peak capacity.

"All right; good luck, now." The archer gave you a reassuring nod as she rushed to take her position above the grounds.

"D-D-Doc," you probed the other priest's mind as your teeth chattered from the cold air twisting its way up your body. "Wh-Where is h-he?"

"A little chilly, are we?" He remarked smugly. "He's approaching. Maverick wants you to confirm for the dozenth time that you're familiar with the current plan."

You rolled your eyes. "T-Tell him ye-ye-yes! C-Couldn't you guys ha-have given m-m-me a j-jacket?"

Doc scoffed. "You wouldn't have been as enticing of a gift if you were fully clothed."

"The best gifts come wrapped, don't forget." Christoph butted into the mental conversation.

"He's coming, (f/n)."

But Doc didn't need to warn you, for you witnessed his appearance with your own eyes. Just beyond the tattered stone gateway that was once connected to gloriously tall, indestructible walls, the shadow of the forest grew in size, engulfing the barren pathway to Fellglow Keep. Crows cawed in the distance and the darkness howled like a black hole. From the middle of the mass, a man materialized with a strong gust of wind, though he didn't look like the Alucard you so miserably remembered.

He carried a blade of ebony that sparkled red, indicating that it was an enchanted weapon. Knowing him, it was probably the sword of a Daedric being. His thick ebony mail looked to be enchanted, as well. Boots of steel crunched against the thick snow, and gauntlets fingered the weapon with vapid excitement. No helmet enveloped his handsome face, his long black hair blowing across the upper part of his face carelessly. He had black facial hair dotting his upper lip and chin, and his blood red cape matched the deadly irises that peered past his locks. He looked a little older than before. You imagined that this would have been what he looked like around the fourteenth century, when he had ruled as both a King and a warrior.

His eyes were immediately locked onto you, drinking in your form at the most unguarded you had been since he had first captured you. A sadistic smirk was creeping its way onto his face as he neared. He could change his outward appearance all he pleased, but he would never be able to suppress his true, cruel nature. As he entered through the gateway, keeping a steady, calm pace, you felt yourself start to hyperventilate.

"Breathe," Christoph mumbled lowly, sweet voice reaching your mind in ways that Alucard could never hope to. "He can sense your fear."

You swallowed l your emotions in favour of stoicism. It was in everyone's best interests that you not botch this so early on with your unbridled feelings. This was a crucial moment.

"My, my," he uttered in what sounded like explicit, unconcealed awe. "You look beautiful in white, my dear. I would have clad you in similar garments this night."

You felt sick to your stomach. Doc had been right about your presentation. White was the perfect colour to stain with brilliant red, after all, and it fit your body well. Your (s/c) skin (matched/contrasted) with the garment, making you stick out like a sore thumb in this terrain.

"You kept your promise," You stated, electing to ignore his vaguely threatening comment. "You suspended your own rules."

"You were the catalyst, pet," he replied smoothly. "You brought this on yourself."

He stopped about a metre away from you, his shadows still hovering behind him and engulfing half of the Keep in a smoggy haze. You were grateful that no one had situated themselves near the gate. His eyes were inquisitive as he appraised you once more, this time closely. You felt disgusting, being exposed so lewdly to him. The fabric was so thin that it clung to your body with ease, and the wetness from the snow further made it stick to all of your defining curves. Your nipples peaked through the dress, which he spent several seconds drinking in before moving to your (thin/athletic/thick) exposed legs.

"Let me guess," he grinned. "This seductive tactic is a sorry attempt to draw me closer, so that you or one of the mortals can ambush me."

You shook your head. "I can't use my magic with these bindings.

He hummed in amusement. "You're muting the energies of the other four." 

You caught his error instantly. Excluding you, there were five people scattered throughout the Keep. You stopped yourself from laughing triumphantly, elated that you had at least something over him.

"I am," you admitted. "But it's the only ability I can muster."

"Drop it."

His demand was simple, yet very firm. He wasn't about to let you disagree or defy him in this proximity. He had permitted you to act rudely and disobey him in your dreams, but now was the time to start your training. He eyed you intensely, watching you squirm from the harsh temperatures and mental discomfort. When you didn't do as he asked, he repeated himself.

"Drop the shroud, priest."

You shook your head. "I won't do that."

He moved closer, his hand shooting out to grasp your chin. You yelped, the coolness of his skin and the abruptness of the touch startling you. It had been long since you had last felt him against you beyond a dream. It wasn't the same as when you have fallen asleep on Christoph's shoulder. His body wasn't meant for yours.

Even despite the displeasure he felt toward your attitude, he carefully forced you to look at him. It was uncharacteristic for him to be gentle during this tumultuous chase. His face was tranquil despite his emotions being erratic. You didn't know if he was going to talk with you or harm you unexpectedly. The stage was set in a manner where your opponent could facilitate either option within the blink of an eye.

"This will end the same, whether you obey me or not. The only difference will be how we reach the climax."

"Then it shouldn't matter what I do." You spat. "You're going to win, so let me have my small victories."

He growled. "Normally, I would find your defiance amusing. Tonight, however, I'm tired. I aim to change your temperament into one fitting of my bride."

The honeymoon period was over between the two of you. The beast you had known before, who had trapped you in the depths of his fortress and restrained his violent nature, was no more. In the dream, he had threatened you with exactly this. He was a man of his word.

"That's what this is about, then?" You asked, enraged. "A lesson in respect?"

He chuckled darkly. "A bride must show her master the respect he deserves."

You were stunned. "You think you deserve--"

"Even a Queen must bend her knee to the King."

You deadpanned him. "And what if the Queen is stronger than her King?"

His eyes softened and his expression was one of condescension. "She may think herself to be, but she is not."

He let go of your chin in favour of grabbing a fistful of your (h/c) hair. You hissed at the contact, crying out when he jerked your head to the side, exposing your neck. Clenching your eyes shut, you waited to feel his teeth against your skin. The aggression was new, but he had teased you like this in the past. He would glide his fangs up and down a patch of your skin, kissing it gingerly but never drawing blood. It was over-stimulating and a neat little intimidation tactic that worked well on your sour, defiant mood.

His stubble tickled your flesh more than you were used to, and you sucked in a breath of cold air. He hummed in amusement at your reaction, pleased that he could manipulate your body like this.

"You can't stop me from claiming you here," he purred. "Shall I take you in front of your comrades?"

"No," you snarled, kicking when he shifted himself between your thighs. "I don't think you should."

The ebony mail felt rough against your core, and your dress had ridden up to give him the perfect access to exactly what he pined for. You didn't put it past him to fulfill his desires right here, in the chilly courtyard of the Keep, before five sets of prying eyes. It would be a power play, to be sure. In fact, it might even force him to lower his guard momentarily.

Ah, but it was too predictable. A sudden shift in your temperament toward him would be highly suspicious, and as obsessed as he was with you, he was also rightfully intuitive. He wouldn't buy that you had experienced a rapid change in mood.

"They won't live long enough for you to be ashamed." He snickered, pressing harder against you.

The friction caused by his armor was making your head cloudy. You didn't want the embarrassment of people you barely knew viewing you at your weakest, full to the hilt because a monster decided to make you his conquest. Movement out of the corner of your eye made your heart pound harder. You didn't dare look at the tower where Darcy was laying in wait, for fear that he would clue into her whereabouts.

"Feeding on you will tighten my influence around your mind." He whispered against your neck, placing his lips against your pulse. "My wish will be your command."

"It will not be." You insisted vehemently.

"Of course, I'll grant you some free will. It wouldn't be interesting if you couldn't think for yourself."

"What can I ever do to thank you for allowing me my own thoughts?" You asked sarcastically.

"Many things." His voice was dripping with lust.

You wriggled in his grip, managing to jut him backwards just enough to glare. "I would never."

Alucard yanked on your hair once again, clearly becoming agitated by your defiance. You noticed his rough treatment worsening as the banter commenced. He was as erratic as he had been before disappearing from your nightmare.

"Are you that confident in your resilience?" He breathed, his breath smelling faintly of pine as he leaned closer to you. "Stronger than you have crumbled by my hand."

You didn't know how to counter. You certainly weren't the most powerful opponent he had ever faced, but to dismiss your merit based on physical strength alone was insulting. You had much to offer in terms of tactics and arcane knowledge. It didn't matter what you responded with, though; he was set on tearing down your self-esteem more than he already had. All that mattered was that you knew the worth you carried with your skill set.

"That's right." Christoph muttered, encouraging you mentally. "We've been over this; you can't let him define you."

"I am confident." You proclaimed aloud.

A twisted smile slithered its way across his lips. Even though his long, dark hair had settled against half of his face from the tumultuous winds, his visible expression was enough to send you into a nervous frenzy. As he closed the distance between your neck and his mouth, you wanted to sink back within yourself and dissipate so that he could never touch you again.

"It's about time I turn you." He rasped. "I've been without you for long enough."

"I won't ask you to turn me," you snapped. "Will you violate me on these terms?"

He chuckled lowly. "The rules have been suspended, don't forget."

"You're sadistic." You breathed, clamping your eyes shut as his head neared your neck. 

"I am, my dear, but not in the ways you think."

His hand slid your dress up to your belly button, completely revealing you. You tried to push him back so that you could close your legs, but to no avail. His hand shifted downward to your intimate area.

"Let me convince you to give in," he murmured with a cocky grin, his fangs gleaming. "Let me please you as I would my bride, so that you may grow as addicted to my touch as I have become to yours."

You were grateful when Darcy finally decided to strike. Just as the beast was pressing his sharp, protruding fangs against your flesh, red eyes insane with thirst, he was interrupted. The second you felt the arrow leave the bow, you wrapped your legs around his waist and secured him in place. You'd be damned if he escaped unscathed. His orbs widened as the arrow sliced through his shadows and made a bee-line for his chest. With a ravenous grunt, he whisked himself away and retreated back toward the black mass inhabiting the latter half of the courtyard.

The bolt zipped past your skull at lightning speed, but not before severing Alucard's left arm as he fled. It wasn't a bow that the woman was handling, nor were the arrows crafted by any old blacksmith. To be capable of dismembering a being like Alucard meant that the weapon, much like his ebony blade, was enchanted. You shut your eyes as the arrow burst into numerous rays of bright light upon striking the snowy earth, displaying its hidden ability to mimic sunlight. The rays impeded the mass, forcing it to withdraw beyond the gate. You wondered if the artificial sunlight affected him differently than the real thing based on how insistent he was on escaping from its effects.

"Darcy's made her move, Doc." Christoph echoed in your head.

"We're on our way." Came the dragon priest's instantaneous response.

An inhuman howl emitted from the darkness that crowded the front of the Keep, the vampire privy to what had been used against him. The bow and the arrows had been crafted specifically to demolish his kind. There was only one in existence and it was once one of the most sought after ancient weapons. Undead creatures had attempted to hunt it down and destroy it across several decades, only to come back from their voyages empty handed. You supposed Darcy had been harbouring it this whole time.

The bow itself caused significant sun damage to vulnerable creatures, whereas the arrows were sunhallowed; they were blessed by Elves worthy to do so in an extensive ritual that lasted twelve hours. When fired from Auriel's bow, they had the strength to pierce barriers like Alucard's like warm butter. With these weapons in your arsenal, he didn't have nearly as much defense as he had thought.

"Ah, Auriel's bow -- admittedly, a weakness of mine." Your foe sighed from afar, where you could just barely see him.

Your ears perked up at the word 'weakness'. You didn't think you'd ever hear him disclose one of his faults. You didn't want to get your hopes up, but this was the most positive news had heard yet. Still, he didn't seem to be too frightened since the aftermath of the attack; this warranted some suspicion.

At the highest peak of the Keep, Darcy stood triumphant, nonetheless. You could imagine her smirking down at him, nostrils flaring and eyes feral with morbid thrill. He was evaluating her from afar, taking in her silhouetted appearance with feigned interest. You could feel the anger steadily bubbling in his being. It was probably irritating to be even mildly thwarted by a mortal again, after serving the Hellsing family for an unjust century or two.

"Where did you learn to wield it?" He growled projecting his voice so that it was carried to her in the cruel winds.

"I learned archery from me Ma!" She cried. "She learned from while in the care of Father Anderson!"

You had never seen such an ravenous, bloodthirsty look on his face at the mention of his old nemesis. The prospect of having someone who had once been under Anderson's wing attacking him made his body wild with excitement. You hoped he never looked at you this way.

"Anderson!" He shouted happily. "Very well, then; come, woman!"

She fired another bolt his way, followed by three more. The first missed its target by no more than a millimetre, whereas the final few struck the edges of the mass. A full quiver of sunhallowed arrows was thirty, so there was some leeway for minor errors.

Tendrils shot out from the darkness and charged toward Darcy, Alucard taking the opportunity to advance, himself. As the shadows struck and crumbled the tip of the building, the archer leapt backward in a magnificent, faultless flip. The vampire was waiting for her below, blade in hand and ready to kill. From the Western entrance of the Keep, the ground rippled as white lightning ripped through the soil on its path toward Alucard. A smug Doc and a passive Maverick waited for the impact in the distance. You couldn't see them, but it was enough to know that they had shown up.

The beast was one step ahead of the attack, sacrificing his finishing blow for Darcy to get out of the way. The Scottish woman landed gracefully in a couching position, straightening herself out instantaneously and feasting her bow. The tendrils sped toward her at blinding speed once again, but a few expertly aimed arrows dissipated them in the blink of an eye. You watched in awe as Christoph rushed to your aid from behind, removing your restraints so that you could pull your weight in the epic battle to ensue.

"Ah, an ambush!" Alucard cackled sadistically. "Predictable!"

You all spread out into rehearsed, tactical positions, with you, Christoph, and Darcy closest to the Keep and Doc, Maverick, and Bernadette toward the middle. The hunters at the front were good short range fighters. It would be tough for him to break through them if he wanted to get to you. At the very least, they would buy you some time. Christoph and you would use your magic to push him back and support the warriors, whereas Darcy would continue firing her bow at opportune moments. Maverick appeared to have a trick or two up his sleeve, as well, from what Doc had told you.

You lifted your gaze to stare at the man who wanted so badly to make you his that he would kill. He stood alone, taking up the other half of the yard with his black influence. Even with the looming threat of vampire hunters before him, he kept his bloody eyes fixated on you.

"There's still time for you to come to me without receiving the full extent of my punishment." Your nemesis drawled, voice smooth like smoked whiskey.

You shook your head slowly, measured. "Give me the respect of a final battle."

He raised a thin brow, pondering your words. As the wind picked up and the snow fell harder, he kept his gaze trained on your face. Unreadable, he appraised each of your features, studying you as if you were fine art. You had never been scrutinized so intimately, so passionately before.

"You want me to treat you as a true opponent?" He asked fiercely, excited for your response. "Do you want me to exert my full force?"

You didn't disappoint him. "I do."

"Then so be it."

You must have struck a nerve, for he came at you with all of his strength, ripping through Bernadette where she stood like she was paper. It was simply to make a point of his power; she hadn't been in his way. You summoned magic to your hands and shot out two steady streams of flames. It took a lot of energy but it was well worth the effort, as Doc created a lightning thrall from thin air to back you. Christoph was utterly mortified at the sight of his comrade, the bright and capable woman that she was, completely split in two before him. Blood gushed unceremoniously from the halves of her form violently, her eyes wide with horror and her lips agape with final words the world would never hear. She was still twitching.

"You won't get away with that!" Darcy bellowed, loading an arrow onto her bow and firing without hesitation.

One shot missed; he was almost upon her.

Two shots missed.

Three shots.

He was there.

Her fourth shot impaled itself into his left arm, obliterating it as he hissed and shrieked from the agony that came with a torn limb. Just as he was about to lay his cruel claws on her, your fire bolt struck him in the other arm and Doc's lightning thrall walloped him with a flurry of bolts. Darcy stepped back to the entrance of the Keep, tearing open the door to reach higher ground as the rest of you kept the demon busy.

One arm lost and the other severely charred, Alucard snarled at the hunters, barring his fangs. He escaped to the gate of the Keep once more, deflecting yours and Doc's techniques with some difficulty. His shadows had disappeared at this point, the sunhallowed arrows sufficient enough to dispel his dark magic. You withdrew your fire and stood at attention as he panted heavily in the snow-ridden courtyard. Doc's thrall hovered next to him in preparation for the next round.

"You were careless," you called smugly.

He grimaced. "Relying on one enchanted weapon will prove to be your downfall."

"One weapon?" You scoffed. "You're not as aware as you think."

He raised a brow, grinning. "Oh?"

You looked to Maverick, who had moved beside Doc. There was a blade at his side, though it wasn't one you had ever seen before. Just as Darcy had Auriel's bow, Maverick had the Dawnbreaker. A long, golden sword, the edge of the hilt shone bright with a jewel resembling the sun's gaze in the centre. The hilt itself, like the rest of the blade, glowed red to indicate its enchantment. Like Darcy's bow, this one handed perk caused sun damage to undead creatures.

Until you had gone outside to commence the first part of the plan, you hadn't known the weapon had been in his possession; you had only ever read legends about its power.

"We have the tools to face you!" Christoph shouted, recovering from his shock at the scene that had played out before him only moments prior.

The vampire laughed a long, sadistic, throaty cackle. "'We'? So far, all you've done is piss yourself at the sight of that pathetic woman's demise."

The colour drained from Christoph's bright eyes. As intended, Alucard had hit a nerve. Pursing his lips, Christoph tried to calm his breathing. It was foreign to him how anyone could kill so effortlessly, with no remorse after the fact. He wondered if Dracula had evolved into a murderer or if he had been born one.

"You killed a dog." He huffed, trying to express calmly despite the whirlwind of emotions spiraling in his head. "And your attack against Bernadette was cheap."

"You're intimidated." You chimed in. "You had to kill one of us to assert your dominance in this equivocal battle."

Alucard narrowed his eyes at you, casting you a vicious, monstrous glare. "You think I'm intimidated, pet?"

"You are!" Darcy shouted somewhere above you before shooting another sunhallowed arrow his way.

Dracula effectively dodging this one, but didn't bank on it bouncing off of the hardened ground and exploding in a flurry of sun rays toward him. The hiss that resounded from his throat indicated that the light did some degree of damage, as he engulfed himself into what remained of his shade and disappeared from sight. It was glorious to hear such a noise emitting from him, the original master vampire to have transcended time and mortality. Even if things ended poorly for you, which you were still quite convinced of, you would relish these moments that accented his pain for centuries to come.

"You are," you reaffirmed, a glint of confidence in your eyes.

"There are too few of you to prevail, even with two dragon priests." He snarled within his abyss.

One of his shadows elongated from the mass, resembling a lethal billiard cue. Each of you braced yourself for the attack that was sure to come. A deep rumbling came from the darkness, as though it was growing hungry for carnage. The cue first shifted to you.

"One."

It slowly dragged toward Christoph.

"Two."

Rolling upward, it was able to find Darcy's careful hiding place atop the grand structure. She tensed behind the crumbled stone wall, knowing that she was his prime target for handling Auriel's bow. The shadows rumbled once more.

"Three."

The cue dropped lower, stopping for the final time at Doc.

"And four."

Your eyes widened, the sinister undertone of his actions coming to light rather quickly. It had been predictable since his absence from the Keep -- too predictable. You had dismissed it almost straight away, ruling out that Maverick would be done in so easily. Foolish, is what you had been, and now you would pay the price.

Doc was too late to clue in. By the time he attempted to retreat backwards, Maverick's blade was already embedded a few inches into his chest. Withdrawing from his place beside his for comrade, the dragon priest clutched his wound and gritted his teeth as he flew toward you and Christoph. The blonde mercenary had an odd, stagnant look in his eyes, one that made him appear absent. You wondered how Alucard had slain him and how brutal he had been. You wondered if Maverick had been shown his end before it came, if he was still in there somewhere, imprisoned like Bernadette's uncle.

What haunted you further was that he seemed to be one of the most capable hunters in the group. If the vampire had managed to sink his claws into him, were the rest of you mere sitting ducks? With Bernadette dead and Doc severely injured, how much of a chance did the rest of you have?

"Doc!" You gasped. "Your chest!"

The dragon priest grunted in agony, panting as though he had just returned from a rigorous run. Blood gushed from his wound at a lethal velocity, staining all of his clothes and dotting his neck. It would take more than this to kill a man of his kind, but this did mean that he was out of commission for the most part. Moreover, if they didn't start the healing process soon, his magic wouldn't be able to sustain him.

"He'll bleed out if we don't--"

"Take cover?" You laughed humorlessly. "That's what I was thinking."

Maverick lunged forward then, aiming to get the finishing blow on Doc before you could flee. Alucard supplemented his malicious movements with his shadows, which unfurled into large, blade-like needles from the abyss. You still couldn't make him out in the darkness, though you could bet that he was grinning.

"Still running, priest!?" He cackled maliciously.

Doc's lightning thrall pounded itself into Maverick with ease, exploding upon impact. The shock that the impact inflicted upon the blonde warrior had a high enough voltage to kill a large cave bear. Alas, the magic abilities that he possessed protected him well enough from the blast; the worst damage was to his clothing. Nonetheless, it was a distraction that gave you just enough time to escape into the Keep as Alucard's keen shadows dashed after you. Darcy kept them at bay as best she could before retreating down to meet you, herself.

Doc whipped around upon your entrance and cast a barrier around the flimsy wooden door that rattled on its hinges. The door nor the spell would keep them out for long but like the explosion, it was a mild deterrent so that you could think just long enough to execute a plan. Most things had gone out the window when Bernadette and Maverick were lost. This had been the purpose of making multiple and individual plans; there was still hope if multiple people were compromised.

"Let me see your wound," you implored, rushing down toward the basement with the two men.

Within seconds, Darcy had joined you on the landing, just as you were tearing open Doc's outfit to get a better look at the damage. Tears were in her eyes as she tried her best to keep her temper low. You hadn't expected her to reveal such intense emotions, even despite losing important comrades.

"Did ye see that!?" She howled rhetorically. "He killed 'em like they were nothin'!"

You nodded, focusing your energy into the dragon priest's wound none too gently. Christoph was doing the same next to you, his restoration ability almost matching your own. Doc clenched his teeth and bit his tongue as he suppressed a throaty cry. Fortunately, the blade hadn't penetrated his heart. If that had been the case, magic would have done little to prolong his life past a few hours.

"Must have gotten Mav earlier this morning," Christoph murmured.

"I can't believe how he sliced through Bern," Doc moaned.

It only took a few minutes to stop the bleeding, you and Christoph's magic clotting the blood enough for the skin to shallowly close over the hole. He was still in a great deal of pain, but he could stand and exert himself more than prior. It was enough for the time being.

"Where are we headed?" You questioned, already having an idea of the answer.

"Remember that bit about the enchanted basement I told you about back at the house?" Christoph asked.

"We're going to the basement passageways, where Maverick and Doc were stationed." You confirmed.

"That's right."

"But lad," Darcy stared absently at Christoph. "Mav knows the area like the back of his hand."

"Not quite," Doc muttered. "There's a passage down there that leads directly into a falmer lair, with an unknown exit into Hungarian turf several kilometres in."

You tensed. Falmer were twisted creatures with no eyes, who had grown deformed and attached to the darkness and a sightless life. Once revered as snow elves, they were driven to the depths by the Dwemer long ago. Corrupted by toxic fungi, they existed only to harm mortals and equivalent beings. They would be difficult to defeat if you happened to run into them.

"If we can sneak past the falmer, Mav and Alucard will have to deal with them," Christoph mused. "

"Aye!" Darcy cheered, presenting as hysterical.

"We'll have to be careful. This should be a breeze for Darcy, a member of the Thieves' Guild, but we may struggle." Doc stated.

"Especially with your wound, Doc," Christoph agreed. "If the falmer catch a whiff of your blood, they'll be able to track us through scent."

"Eyeless fucks," Darcy remarked hotly.

"Okay, hear me out," the dragon priest started. "If I stay behind, you'll have a likelier opportunity to buy time by sneaking around the falmer. If I tag along and they notice me, we'll get stuck in numerous battles and our assailants will catch up in no time."

You glared at him, refusing his logic. "That's not what Christoph meant."

"That's absolutely not what I meant."

"I can escape," Doc said confidently. "I can go with you for a while, until we encounter falmer. Then, I'll find a crevice for cover. I'll strip of my clothing, incinerate them, and disguise my energy. They won't notice me unless I want them to."

"Okay," Christoph sighed. "Even if you were to discard your clothing, the wound on your chest can reopen."

"What's more, you'll leave behind traces of residue magic when you incinerate your clothing." You informed.

Doc's voice slid into your head. "Let me do this."

You were confused as to why he was so eager to sacrifice himself. It would do you all little good to part ways with him. He was more powerful than you, with years of experience, and he had joined the hunters to see Dracula's end. Giving up just didn't seem like him, based on the short time you had gotten to know him.

"I don't understand," you said finally.

The other two had clued into the silent conversation and were watching you with unease. Darcy appeared frustrated whereas Christoph took the quiet time to sort through the most recent trauma in his head. Time was ticking. Everyone was on edge.

"I can buy you time, maybe even finish him off." The priest drawled. "If not him, then at least Maverick."

"I don't doubt your strength, but I believe you have better odds of surviving in our company." You urged.

He shook his head visibly. "I refuse."

You bit your lip, unsure of how you could possibly agree to condemning another of your kind to his death. Despite it being his wish, you didn't understand his intentions. You wanted to tell him that it was probably too late for you all, anyways, that it didn't matter if he accompanied you or stayed behind.

"We need to decide what we're doing now, lass," Darcy damn near begged. "He's well on his way in by now."

"Or they'll meet us partway through a narrow passage." Christoph shuddered.

You glanced at Doc for a moment, giving him the opportunity to change his mind if it possessed him to do so. He avoided your pleading eyes and turned to his longtime comrades. It was evident what his choice was.

"I'm sticking with my plan," he uttered. "Let's get moving."

With that, all four of you continued deeper into the basement portion of Fellglow Keep, with Doc promising to depart whenever he found a large enough crevice to slip into. You reminded him not to be hasty, to think about his decision emotionlessly and strategically; he didn't seem to mind your words. Darcy and Christoph remained deep in thought as the two of you paved the way, ready for any surprise encounters that would come.

The trip was quiet for the most part. The howling wind and blowing snow were the only sounds to be heard as they crashed against the surrounding dirt and stone. You and Christoph used small traces of your magic to generate balls of light that worked well to illuminate your way. Every so often, someone would pipe up with a good point or a key question to consider. You had formerly done this with your comrades during long journeys; it was like an inadvertant team building exercise.

"How much do ye suppose he knows about our schemes, gang?" The archer inquired softly.

You shrugged. "Probably anything Maverick knew."

"That's quite a bit," Christoph exhaled, rubbing his temples. "Bernadette, too."

"He killed her so effortlessly, like the monster I always dreamed he was," Doc muttered.

"We have something he wants." Christoph nodded at you. "It's more proof that he'll stop at nothing to have it."

"He didn't even feed from her," Darcy pointed out. 

"But I bet he absorbed her, just like Mav and Bosco."

"Meaning he has a very clear idea about our plans." The dragon priest grumbled.

When you made it to the secret passage without a confrontation, you were a little shocked. A narrow corridor could have been twisted in Alucard's favour, and you knew he was lurking close by. It frightened you to be in such a dark space with a hungry vampire looming in wait, particularly when his movements were so sporadic. 

"Honestly," Christoph stressed. "How are we still alive right now?"

You shot him a venomous look, a cue that forced him to shut his mouth. Doc motion toward a pathway that deviated to the right. You could see a dim light shining somewhere down the tunnel, which looked as though it had been miraculously man-made. The illumination meant that a falmer colony, typically comprised of two to seven members, was nearby. This also suggested the presence of chaurus, who often coexisted with the blind beings.

You pressed a hand against your forehead and pursed your lips. You had never thought that you would have perceived the deranged, darkness-dwelling creatures to be the least threatening to encounter.

"We go this way," Doc explained, veering the group down the less maintained tunnel.

"Are ya really gonna leave us, Doc?" Darcy asked in slight disbelief.

The man nodded solemnly as he guided you part way down the path. You could tell that this was a difficult decision for him.

"We should say our goodbyes now; you won't notice when I depart." He said, stopped for a moment to follow through on his request.

He shook hands with Christoph and Darcy, who exchanged words of woe and encouragement with their friend. He brought Darcy into a short, unwelcomed hug as she struggled to move away. Not one for close touching, she protested up until he released her, shooting him a dirty look upon escape.

When he turned to you, his voice knocked against the confines of your mind. You allowed it entrance, to mingle with your innermost thoughts for the last time.

"He will not take my knowledge," he reassured you. "If he attempts it, I will kill myself before he is able to do so."

You had thought about using this method of suicide during your journey to Arad, as well; Alucard couldn't turn you if you destroyed all parts of your physical being. You wished Doc success, wished that it wouldn't have to come to such a thing.

"But it will," he held. "Maybe not for the rest of you, but for me."

You chatted with his casually for a few more minutes before realizing that precious time was being whittled by pleasantries. You longed to return to a life where such things could be spared. Darcy and Christoph were already ahead, waiting for you. For the sake of normalcy, you maintained the verbal conversation left hanging in midair. Locking your (e/c) eyes with his, you smiled.

"You think we won't notice you slipping away?"

"Not if I do it right."

He smirked as he pulled you into a friendly final embrace. It was familiar and warm, like home. You resisted the urge to dig your nails into his shoulders and never let go. Even as the world crumbled around you, and even as the vampire came to take you away -- never let go.


	11. Chapter X: The Surge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Treading through the winding tunnels of the caverns beneath the keep, you try your best to evade Alucard and his spiritual companions. Your chase gets to a point, however, where you can't avoid a little violence.

"You reckon he knew about the courtyard plan?" Christoph inquired quietly to you and Darcy ahead.

"Aye."

"How about Auriel's bow?" 

"Nope. He seemed surprised by it," you posited.

"If he consumed Mav, wouldn't he have known about the bow?" The mage insisted.

"Maybe Mav protected that specific piece of information," Darcy offered gruffly.

"And not the rest of the information?"

"There's no way of knowing how much he knows." You threw your hands in the air, frustrated at the topics emerging. Just prior, Christoph had asked you how you were feeling from your close encounter with Alucard in the courtyard. You didn't much care for his prying, though it was nice to have someone concern themselves with your well-being.

"He knows no shame," Darcy had snarled. "Tryin' to rape a woman publicly is worse than tryin' it privately."

"They're both bad," the mage had murmured behind you, clearly empathetic about what had occurred.

"Yes, but the humiliation of public assault is blasphemous," she said, trying to contain the anger that wanted so desperately to fly from her throat. "And he was prepared to do it."

It scared you, pondering the lengths that Alucard would go to just to ensure you were his. He was willing to ruin you inside and out to mold you into his bride, someone to rule under him and give into his most deliciously carnal desires. You still didn't know what it was about you that had drawn him in. Nevertheless, whether it was a fluke, bad luck, or something that you had exuded, you supposed it didn't matter. He wouldn't stop now unless he was promptly killed. There was no convincing him to pursue other mates or persuading him that you weren't as special as he thought you were. You would continuously be the apple of his eye... or perhaps more fittingly, the blood bag of his delight.

"Are you still cold, (f/n)?"

You grunted, your body quivering from the chilly tunnel. It was fortunate that you at least had boots to wear, though you would have greatly appreciated a jacket and some snow pants.

"Definitely," you murmured.

"Do ya want his sweater, lass?"

"Hey! I didn't offer up my clothes!"

Darcy winked knowingly at the mage. "But ya were gonna."

You stopped advancing then, halting your two comrades in their tracks as you laid eyes on a particularly large colony of falmer ahead. Darcy muttered a few curse words beneath her breath while Christoph shook his head in disdain. This was the fourth time you would be forced to sneak around these beasts. So far, you had almost gotten caught twice. Fortunately for you, there were many crevices to hide within that made you damn near undetectable. You supposed that had been how Doc had slipped away so easily. He had certainly been a man of his word.

You could see a clear route around the beasts. There was a ridge you could sidle along above them, accessible by hopping onto a few large rocks. If all went as planned, they would either not detect you at all or believe the extra noise was due to the earth shifting. You pointed at the place you were contemplating to silently inform your comrades. They nodded in comprehension and followed your lead.

In a word, the execution of your sneakiness was immaculate. You had watched Darcy orchestrate the first few avoidances with critical eyes, learning her craft before attempting it yourself. Naturally, you caught on swiftly. You even detected a hint of admiration in the archer's tone since.

Beyond the falmer camp was a stream, which was settled far enough away from the creatures for the three of you to take a short rest. The water was as cold as the cave, chilling your sweaty hands as you dipped them in for reprieve. You kept your voices hushed as you chattered amongst yourselves.

"Yer gettin' good at sneakin' around, (f/n)," Darcy whispered, shocking you with the use of your name.

"I learned from the best," you deemed with a quick smile.

You jumped when you felt warm fabric land on your exposed shoulders, immediately batting at the material with frantic hands. Christoph watched you with a pained expression, wearing a thinner sweater than prior. It didn't take you long to realize that he had surrendered the thicker garment to you, just as Darcy had teased he would do. You almost giggled at how well she had caught onto his antics from working with him.

"I'm not that cold. I dressed in layers," Christoph breathed. "You need this more than I do."

Darcy smirked. "What did I tell ya?"

The exponential warmth that the sweater gave your body was minor compared to the heated feeling in your chest as the man blushed and stepped away. You splashed some of the water on your face, immediately regretting the decision when the droplets traveled down your neck and into your clothes.

"Heh," the Scottish woman chuckled. "The two of ye are like teenagers."

"If you think about it, adolescence wasn't _that_ long ago for any of us," the mage offered. "Hence why you're still a brat."

"I'll shove these arrows up yer arse--"

Christoph flashed you a toothy, playful grin as your comrade continued her vocal tirade. "See what I mean?"

Your break only lasted a couple minutes more before the three of you continued down the dark cavern trail. There was still no sign of Alucard or his accomplices yet. You wondered if Doc had managed to distract him from his course, or if he was awaiting you at the exit. Clenching your teeth and 

* * *

"Do you think he's familiar with Hungarian land?" Christoph asked as you crept along a particularly lengthy corridor.

"Based on his history with Hungary during his younger years, I'd say so," you huffed, lunging over a pile of crumbled stone.

"If that's the case, then we should head West as soon as possible," he muttered.

"If he lets us," Darcy said. "I very much doubt we'll leave this tunnel without encountering him."

Gunshots echoed in the distance, and you stopped in awe at the sound. It was far away, and yet the noise was carried all the way to you. More bullets rang through the air, coming from somewhere behind you.

"That Mav's gun?" The archer questioned her whimsical companion.

He shook his head. "Doesn't sound like it."

"Alucard?" You mouthed.

"Or his fledgling."

"Let's go," Darcy whispered hastily.

You picked up the pace, your bear legs aching as you pushed them to their limit. After days and days of travelling, they still weren't quite used to all of the movement. You longed to stop and sleep for hours upon hours -- maybe one day.

Up ahead was an old, disheveled bridge, rocking slowly back and forth as it dangled on four long, musty pieces of thick rope. As Christoph and Darcy inched across it carefully, you stepped off of the ledge and let your magic carry you to the other side. Christoph giggled childishly as Darcy watched you in awe. She had witnessed the use of magic before, she explained, but flying never failed to make her jaw drop. You thought it was sort of cute.

"Should we cut the ropes?" Christoph hesitated, a small, pale dagger in his hand.

You landed next to him, shaking your head. "I'm no expert, but I think we should leave this place as if we had never been here."

"How have ya survived this long without knowin' the basics of bein' a rat?"

The mage looked at her stupidly. "I guess that last quake dropped a bit too much rubble on your head -- _you're_ the rat, remember?"

Members of the thieves' guild were often referred to the furry, disease-ridden creatures by townsfolk. They weren't the most popular organization, for their trickery knew few bounds. In recent years, they had gained some rather large contracts from unsavory businesses and leaderships, gaining them infamy amongst the common rabble. You wondered if Darcy had anything to do with their uprising as a guild.

"The point still stands," she gritted her teeth as she spoke.

"Why would I learn how to sneak around when I can literally fuck people up with magic?" Christoph mused with a smirk.

"How's that workin' out, ya radge wee shite?

"Guys," you interrupted. "If we're not cutting the rope, we need to keep going."

The two glanced at you begrudgingly. Tensions were high and Christoph's tendency to annoy Darcy was expressing itself more frequently. You could understand the Scottish lady's frustration, however; you had thought the man almost unbearably eccentric upon first meeting him. Through trauma and mistrust, you had gotten to delve deeper into his mind, further than he had let anyone in some time. You knew that beneath his outward personality was a passionate, sweet individual, someone who was more than his craft and obnoxious vocalizations. Darcy, too, was someone who hid behind an distorted mask. Though you didn't know much about her, you could tell that her heart was in the right place even despite her calloused, ambiguous actions. She had been through a lot in her life to make her this way.

Just as they were about to concede to your request in between their bickering, you felt a sharp energy approaching from behind you. There wasn't much time for you to find a hiding place with the velocity at which it was coming. Your eyes locked onto Christoph, who had felt it, as well. Darcy seemed to be blissfully unaware of the impending terror. She probably wouldn't recognize what it was until it was upon her. She was fortunate that she was talented in other manners, such as the speed at which she could flee from danger.

You glanced around for a rock to hide behind, spying a crevice much like the one Doc must have slid into during your descent. You maintained the repression spell that you had cast earlier to shroud your teammates' presence, and ushered them toward the hole. It was small enough for each of you to wriggle in, though the fit was tight. Your couldn't stand, and you were practically crushed between a rocky wall and Christoph. Your neck was on an uncomfortable angle and your skull was scraping against the hard ceiling. If there was another minor tremor, which was common in tunnels like these, the hole could cave in and entrap you forever. You would die slowly of suffocation or starvation, if Alucard didn't happen across you first.

"Don't go thinking any bad thoughts, now," Christoph whispered against the shell of your ear.

You sucked in a breath of stale, moldy air at the sensation, and you could have sworn you felt his lips purse against your skin. Now wasn't the time for butterflies, and yet there you were, enticed by the feeling of another human giving you the attention you deserved. You clamped your eyes shut for a fleeting moment and attempted to diminish the blush that burned your cheeks. You put out the ball of light you had generated with your magic, further stimulating your fantasy of being caved in; fear was healthier than being a flustered mess, in this circumstance.

The lot of you waited patiently for the energy to pass or find you, both you and the mage tracing it as it advanced closer. Your jaw dropped slightly when you saw who it was. Just a brief glance of blonde hair, freshly released from a beanie, told you their identity. It was none other than Maverick, and he didn't seem to notice that you were laying in wait. Darcy appeared the most startled by his sudden appearance, and you watched in the dim light as a thousand different emotions flashed across her visage.

He was in his usual attire, holding a ball of light as he stopped to rest after the rickety bridge. It was strange to see someone who was undead tire from physical exertion. You squinted your eyes to get a better look at him, trying to see if he was still human. He turned his back to you before you could, staring at the water that flowed beneath the wooden structure.

The next thing you knew, Darcy was aiming an arrow at his skull.

Your eyes shot to her, wide and wild, begging her not to act rashly; nonetheless, it was to no avail. She felt too much betrayal -- too much _pain_ \-- to be able to see that starting a fight was reckless. All that occupied her mind was revenge. You knew that there had to be some history between her and Maverick for her to be acting so erratically. The scorned woman released the arrow with great strength, grunting as it sailed through the air toward the man's head. At the very last second, he tilted his head only a few centimeters to the left. As a result, the arrow clacked uselessly against the wall of the cavern with a dull _clink_.

All at once, you shimmied out of the crevice to avoid being trapped. Christoph was the final one out, gasping as a particularly sharp rock sliced a thin line across his chest. The Scottish woman raced toward her former comrade, bow at her side and the intent to kill emanating from her person.

"Maverick!" She screamed, shrill voice echoing for kilometers in both directions. "How fuckin' dare ya!?"

"Darcy," he greeted her with a smug nod as shadows grew around him and his eyes reddened.

She stopped several feet away, hungry for another shot at his head. You and Christoph took a stance a little ways behind her, prepared to back her up. Maverick seemed to have remained a mortal, except for his eyes. It looked as though Alucard had taken his soul hostage, controlling his mind as if he was a thrall. You weren't aware that he could manipulate someone without having bitten them at least once.

His focus was on you, ignoring his two former acquaintances in favour of the prize. "You know why I'm here."

"For me, of course," you replied humorlessly.

"If you come with me now, your Master has agreed to spare them."

His voice was no longer his own. It was measured, hypnotic, and far deeper than previously. It was a shame to see him this way. You didn't doubt that he was sealed somewhere in his own mind, watching in complete horror as his body operated without his consent and against his morals.

"That's a lie, Mav, come on," Christoph pleaded. "He'll kill us regardless of whether or not she goes quietly."

"Let me ask you something," you urged, steering the conversation another way. "Is Doc dead?"

Silence. Dead eyes glued to you; steady, uncaring eyes. Again, it resonated with you that this wasn't the same man you had first encountered at the Keep.

"You know the answer to that, dragon priest," he divulged.

"By your hand?"

"By his own."

Water dripped from the tall ceiling of the cave. You didn't break eye contact with him even as you froze the droplets into an ice spike behind him. You didn't need to wonder if he felt the soft accumulation of magic, for the look on his face when you impaled him through the heart with the simple flick of your finger said it all. You had never been great at casting ice magic, though you believed this to be your best attempt at it yet. The sheer agony that flashed across his face as he sunk to his knees, clutching the solid pike as it stopped his heart, almost made you feel bad. Blood gushed from the wound as he choked on it, falling onto his side to suffer through his last moments.

You all stood there and watched, waiting for him to draw his final breath. It seemed like forever. Darcy held back tears as she tried to remember that Maverick hadn't been in control of his body, that you had done what was best for the group. Christoph clasped his head with both hands, massaging it gingerly with depressed orbs. He died soon after you had decided to take a step forward.

Your hands were shaking. You didn't know how you had mustered the courage to kill a man like him so effortlessly. Perhaps some part of him had wanted to be killed. Alternatively, this may have been the plan all along; Alucard may have sent Maverick to stall.

Darcy stepped forward and nudged the deceased with her foot. When he didn't move, she nudged him a little harder. With every single push, he drew closer and closer to the ledge of the cliff. Eventually, he was rolled into the gushing water below, giving him the dignity of a scenic, reclusive resting place.

There was no time for prayers or words of love. There was no time to reflect on his death and how he was compromised. If his purpose truly had been to waste time, they had to move as swiftly as possible. The uncertainty wafting about was smothering. You were certain that you would encounter Alucard at the end of the route. When you saw him, there would be a lot for you to think about. You were your own bargaining chip, after all. If a large win remained off the table, you could take solace in smaller victories where he would allow them. You merely hoped he was in a forgiving, generous mood.

"I can't believe that just happened," Christoph panted after at least five minutes of silence on the move. "He just--"

"Ya fuckin' _impaled_ him, lass," Darcy gawped. "Just fuckin' _nailed_ him."

"Well, what else was I supposed to do?!" You inquired angrily.

"Give him a chance to explain," she offered.

Christoph groaned. "You're joking, right?"

You glared at the woman. She was mourning for several friends; you didn't blame her for being irritable. Nonetheless, you wouldn't stand for her accusatory attitude. Everyone was stressed out and you all needed to stick together.

"I didn't want either of you to die. He was going to kill you. There was nothing for him to explain because that wasn't the Maverick you knew," you explained.

"But was impalin' him necessary?"

You knew what she was getting at. You had used the same method of execution with Maverick as you had used with the sex traffickers near Arad. You didn't know why you had chosen impalement again; it had been an unconscious decision. You weren't trying to imitate your enemy in the least, despite him seeming to think so. It had just been the easiest and most discrete course of action at the time. Rolling your eyes, you waved her off. There was no point in trying to justify what you had done. The most you could offer now was an apology.

"I'm sorry that it had to come to this," you confided genuinely. "I didn't want him to die here."

The woman's face became docile, then. Just as you had supposed, her heart was in the right place; it was her emotions that she couldn't quite regulate. She hadn't meant to pop off at you. You had just been an possible outlet for her fury.

"It's not your fault, (f/n)," Christoph responded before Darcy could make any further quips.

You nodded in his direction lazily, thankful that at least one of them didn't condemn you for your response. Rightfully so or otherwise, it hurt you to think that Darcy equated you to the death of Maverick. The two hunters had appeared to be close friends, if not more.

"I'm pretty sure that she and Mav were lovers," the mage explained to you wordlessly, as if on cue.

"That makes sense," you replied simply. " _Shit_..."

"Are you okay so far?" He asked shyly. "I know that's a dumb question."

You felt his hand bump against your own. With Darcy leading the way, he was being a little more bold with how he expressed himself. You repeated his action, poking his wrist with your index finger.

"Then why did you ask it?" You challenged.

"It didn't feel right not to check in."

His hand encircled your own, which you gladly welcomed, and gave you a gentle squeeze before retreating. You couldn't help the blush that slid across your cheeks this time. Instead, you turned your head to face the other direction while you got yourself under control. You persuaded yourself that this was no time to be catching feelings, even though they had been budding since Arad. The old you would have chided you for opening your heart to a man so fast, especially after how your last crush perished. Reciprocating your feelings for Christoph meant that he was in grave danger, possibly more so than Darcy, with her ties to Alexander Anderson.

"We can't do this," you whispered aloud.

He turned look at you as he walked, squeezing your hand tighter. "I know."

"What are ye babblin' about back there?" Darcy prodded in annoyance. "Keep up, will ya? Might need more of that impalin' for our actual foes."

* * *

Seras was there to greet you when you finally arrived in Hungary. You were only surprised that she was alone. Somewhere in the distance, you could feel Alucard lurking. He knew of your presence, though he would not tread any closer. He didn't seem to want to intervene.

You stepped over the thick, wooden trap door you had blasted off its hinges. It had been covered with mounds of snow. The study little thing had managed to survive the blunt force of your magic, at close range, no less. The melted snow around you hadn't shown the same degree of success. Darcy tread in front of you, stopping at a safe distance from her new foe. Christoph remained beside you, per usual. It was three against one with superhuman and unnatural strength; the odds should have sounded better.

"It took you long enough," the vampire laughed with an odd smile and in a light British accent.

Her demeanor, much like the one she had lured you away from your late comrades with, was cheery. She was acting as though you were old friends of hers with the way she greeted you. No doubt it was a ploy to decrease your guard and confuse you. Nevertheless, it struck you as strange that Alucard had chosen a woman like this to turn. You had yet to see her power, but you weren't expecting much.

"You're not going to let us pass alive," you accused, skipping straight to the point.

Darcy loaded two sunhallowed arrows into her bow, tilting it horizontally. Digging her heel into the snow, she took stance. The seriousness exuded from her person, daring the youthful blonde lady to lunge.

"I have a solution for that," she snarled. "Move."

Her eyes flashed a deadly shade of crimson as the two arrows sped toward her. Like her master, she was nimble and well alert. She twisted her body away from the bolts with ease and a second to spare. However, instead of the confidence that Alucard expressed, she appeared to be unsure of herself. It was clear that she had remained humble throughout her time as his fledgling, perhaps due to her ignorance regarding prowess that lay within her.

"I can't let you pass without taking Miss (f/n)," she asserted, nervousness painted across her visage. "Master said he would spare the rest if she would just come of her own volition."

"It's not _coming of her own volition_ if you're threatening her to get her to do so," Christoph pointed out.

"You plan to fight me, then?"

"I just shot dual arrows at ya, lass."

"Fair point."

Seras slung forward a gun that had been strapped to her back, cocking it expertly before aiming it at Darcy. You were anticipating a fire fight, knowing that Alucard had a fascination with gunpowder. This was no problem for you. As soon as the bullets were fired, you created a ward to deflect them with simplicity. They bounced off of the magical shield you had formed before your comrades, spraying in several directions. The archer rolled out of the transparent shield and loaded another arrow into her bow, releasing the deadly bolt in anticipation of where Seras would be a moment from now. The foresight worked.

The fledgling's foot was stuck, tearing it from her body as she hissed at the sudden burst of sunlight. You hadn't expected her to continue firing her gun through her agony, sending a flurry of lead your way. Despite her best efforts, Darcy was hit in the thigh, screaming when the bullet embedded itself in her bone. Christoph had put up a lesser ward in time to deflect what he could from himself, as had you. When the gunfire halted, however, you were immediately by the injured woman's side. Christoph rushed in front of you both, on defense as you worked your magic.

You had removed bullets before, though you didn't hold a medical degree and were not extensively trained in healing artes. You didn't know if you would be able to extract it from the Scottswoman's wound within such a pressed timeline, but you were keen to try. Darcy was a beast in combat with her enchanted bow and quiver arrows; you and Christoph would be more doomed than you already were if you lost her now. Panting shallowly, you knew that she was also aware of this.

"I can close the wound with Healing Hands, but that won't eject the bullet," you reported. "How deep do you think it is?"

"Deep!" The woman howled. "Just close the fuckin' thing and we'll worry later!"

You hesitated for a moment, hands hovering idly above her thigh. Haunting thoughts of the pain she would endure, as well as the notion of lead poisoning clouded your mind. Shards of the bullet may have lodged themselves within her, further risking infection. She would need to remove the bullet as soon as she could after the fight, should she survive. You hoped that the discomfort would do little to hinder her prowess for the time being.

Just as you laid your hands above the hole, Seras emerged from the snowy cloud that the arrow had created, eyes wild and red, searching for her attacker with a hungry snarl. Her true vampiric instincts were showing. Her foot remained missing. You wondered briefly if Alucard had gotten the chance to heal yet, knowing well that you wouldn't allow Seras the pleasure. As you cast the spell and allowed the energy to seep from your palms, Christoph readied bolts of ice.

"Master won't like how _bad_ you're being, you know," the blonde creature hissed at you. "You'll have far more of a price to pay than just your blood."

" _I'm_ your opponent; don't talk to her," the mage asserted, firing one of his pikes her way.

Shattering it with a single, precise hand motion, she smiled sweetly. "Ah, I see. How rude of me."

You summoned a flaming thrall as you healed your friend, tossing it toward Seras just as she launched herself toward Christoph. The thrall was designed to explode upon nearing your enemy, and that it did. She hadn't seen it coming.

The blonde was blown across the land much as you had been during your initial battle with Alucard, though not nearly as far. She had a better concept of gravity than you. She knew better than you, too, despite appearing so young and vulnerable. In reality, she was a killer. It didn't matter if she hadn't been prior to her time as a vampire. All that mattered was that she was an utter beast here and now. Each of you had to be exceptionally careful.

"Aw, _ouch_ ," she grumbled as she skidded backward, heels digging into the snow. "That was a little rude, wasn't it?!"

" _I'm_ rude?" You called in heated fury, still working on healing your comrade.

"Don't let her get to you," Christoph hissed, readying a few more of his bolts.

From what you could tell, he needed your help. He wouldn't be able to hold out much longer on his own. You couldn't dawdle with Darcy.

Casting your gaze down at the injured woman, she grunted in agony from the magic seeping into her wound. It was unpleasant, to be sure, but it was almost over. In front of you, Seras came for Christoph yet again, barely deterred by his attacks. He summoned a few atronachs to keep himself afloat, praying that they would be distractions good enough to save his ass while you finished up.

Unfortunately, this was not the case.

About as strong as her master when it came to evading magic, Seras burst through the beings and grabbed Christoph by the throat with a clawed hand. He tried to get away at the last second, though failed pathetically as he was slammed against the ground with enough strength to dent the earth. You could hear him gargle, and you knew that his windpipe had damn near been crushed.

"No...!" You sobbed.

"Is it almost done, lass!?" Darcy begged.

You nodded promptly. "Just a little more!"

"A... little... help... guys...?" You heard the mage choke.

As soon as the hole closed, you stood up abruptly and offered your hand to Darcy. She eagerly accepted it, crying out through gritted teeth as she placed weight on the bad leg. Still, a warrior forever and always, she bore the agony and rushed toward the man she despised a mere fraction less than the vampire atop him. You trailed closely behind her, forming pikes of ice and firing them at the red-eyed beast.

Shadows slithered around Seras that broke your attack into thousands of little pieces, much to your chagrin. Darcy readied her bow at that, preparing to execute the vampire where she knelt. Loading an arrow into the weapon, she released it while jogging, just barely missing her elusive target. 

Seras was already quite keen on Darcy's ability, it seemed, for she had abandoned Christoph in favour of saving herself any added damage. With only one usable foot, she hovered in place a few meters away from the trio as they made it to their companion's side.

"Shit, lad!" The Scott barked. "Can ya speak?"

He sat up with your help, your hand supporting his back. Coughing several times, the final time ejecting a mix of phlegm and blood from his system, he nodded vigorously. You rubbed his back gently as he caught his bearings. He had never been that close to dying before. It would have been a terrible end for such a prestigious, eccentric man. Grimacing, he didn't dare think about such things any further.

"Yeah, yeah," he wheezed. "We have to put an end to this, though."

You grunted as you got to your feet. "If you can impale her with one of your arrows, we might be able to-"

"Ah, _impale;_ a woman after my own heart."

Your eyes widened at the sudden voice that resounded through your ears. It was like poison and you dreaded what would come within the next few minutes of hearing it. The smoke around Seras started at her feet and moved higher as it took shape, forming the very man you had been running from - the one who wanted nothing more than to keep you as his so long as you were unwilling.

He had caught up to you - or, perhaps he had always been just a mere step behind you.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Christoph muttered as he stood next to the two of you, continuing to grasp his sore throat.

One of his hands found yours as Alucard, in all his glory, morphed into his usual red attire. It gave you quick, single squeeze before ripping away. It was to let you know that whatever happened, he was here - he would always be here. It should have made you happy but it brought you nothing above sadness, for you knew the underlying meaning behind the gesture. Try as you might - and you _would_ try - the cunning mage and the magnificent archer would not survive another hour of this chase.

You cast a dark look at Darcy as she took the last few arrows from her quivered and took a deep breath. Her final few shots had to count. The pressure had never been higher.

"You've come so far, only to fail," the ageless vampire drawled with an arrogant simper. "Now, all who helped you will die, as you kiss my feet and beg for forgiveness."

Your face contorted in disgust. That wasn't necessarily an image you needed. Never would you allow yourself to stoop so low. As much as he wanted to believe you would seek to _prove_ your faux devotion, you couldn't picture yourself conforming in such a way.

Beside your foe, Seras hovered casually with her hands cradled behind her back. Her expression was calm, particularly now that Alucard had arrived to assist. She had a great amount of faith in and dedication to her master. You wondered if she was naturally submissive or if he had sculpted her into this monstrosity to be tied at his hip. You didn't want to know, as it might foreshadow a destiny that haunted you to your core.

"It isn't over yet, ya undead twit," Darcy grunted, nudging your shoulder. "We need to get this over with soon though, lass."

You knew as much. Both parties aside you were injured and you weren't even dressed appropriately for battle. Never had you felt more at a disadvantage. At the back of your mind, you were already thinking of ways to surrender yourself that didn't involve the aforementioned feet kissing. There was only a slim chance of you all winning against the dreaded Dracula, who dared to challenge and prevail over a daunting team of supernatural hunters and two dragon priests.

Would giving up now be more favorable? Would you be able to save their lives if you went to him now? You thought of poor Youssef and knew the answer to those questions. That barkeep had done nothing more than direct you to a place for your and his town's safety. He hadn't deserved to die like that. Bosco the dog, as well; what had that stupid pooch ever done to Alucard? It seemed as though the ancient vampire merely wanted to torture animals and humans alike merely for their existence. This is one of the reasons you could never love him the way he promised you would.

You could never bring yourself to love a monster.

As Alucard silently commanded his tendrils to dart toward Darcy, you watched feebly as Christoph leapt into action. You couldn't move. Your head ached and your body was as frozen as the dirt beneath the blowing snow.

_You couldn't move._

Christoph created a small, round shield around the three of you as Darcy fingered her second to last arrow. She loaded it into her bow and tested the flexibility of the weapon while taking a deep, measured breath. She and the mage bantered back and forth, though all you could hear were their muffled voices. It felt as though you were sinking, ears submersed in water. Your body swayed despite the barrier cutting off all sources of wind. Finally, you collapsed.

"(F/n)!" You thought you heard Christoph shout, but your eyes were too heavy to watch for him.

You didn't fall into a slumber. There was darkness and no sound, other than a faint humming in your ears. You could feel vibrations against your form, as if the earth was breathing beneath you. You could feel the temperature drop, the snow crunching under your bare skin, though you weren't chilly. Faint lights danced in the distance of your blackness - auras. You had never felt like this or seen these things before; at least, not that you could recall.

You had no idea what was happening. Softly, you could make out words being whispered into your ear; words that were not from either of your comrades.

_Let me take over for a time, dear vessel._

_Sleep._

_Let me do the work._

"No," you slurred quietly. "Who are you?"

You didn't recognize the voice, though you ought to have. The being speaking with you had been growing and festering inside you for many years. You hadn't been able to hear it clearly before but now that you were on your last legs, ready to surrender and give up on your life as a dragon priest, your mind had opened.

"Oh, it's you," you murmured sleepily. "The mask."

_Let me take control of you and show you what we're truly capable of._

"We...?"

_You and I._

You tried to smirk but you couldn't seem to close your mouth. "I'm aware of your tricks, mask."

The faceless voice chuckled as you felt your body being picked up from where it had fallen. Everything beyond your mind seemed to be moving in slow motion.

_Do you have a choice but to trust me, priest?_

"What can you do that I can't?" You inquired. "We might just be defeated, you and I."

_My ties to Meridia may save us._

This was the first you were hearing of Meridia. When you had been given the mask, no one had mentioned this connection to you. Perhaps even they hadn't known of it. A well-kept secret between the forger and his creation, it was very likely that no one had known about the mask granting you this ability.

Meridia was a Daedra, and a particularly powerful one, at that. She was still revered as a merciful deity in some mortal legends, given that she despised the undead in any form. Myths dictated that her followers were rewarded for pursuing and disposing of supernatural creatures, such as ghouls and vampires. The best rewards were reserved for her most skilled warriors, of course. The mask was proposing that it had been forged with the intent to use some of her power, indicating that the forger had been a follower of Meridia. This, by extension, also made you a follower of the Daedra, though only when you allowed the mask to take over.

This was a big risk.

On one hand, the mask could save the lives of you and your comrades. On the other, it could incapacitate you on many levels. If the attack against Alucard and Seras was successful, the mask could continue its reign over your body, controlling and using you as the vessel it thought you to be. In this instance, you may never return to normalcy. If the attack against your foes failed, however, the outcome might be even worse. That would mean succumbing to Alucard and your friends dying. On top of all that, you would technically be on a timer. You didn't know how long you would have until the mask's strength depleted. You had never trained with it before; you didn't know its limits.

_Enough thinking, now, little one._

_Let me in._

You hated that it used the same pet name to refer to you as Alucard.

These immortals and their condescension.

"I can't," you sighed. "The cons outweigh the pros."

The mask scoffed. _You would have us die here instead of trusting my power?_

"(F/n)! Come on!" Christoph's terrified voice came through your ears at maximum volume, making you jump.

Your eyes snapped open and your body jolted upward, tearing you out of his arms and tossing you to your hands and knees like a rag doll. Your vision was blurred, as if you had been crying, and your throat was sore. You could feel the wet snow against your skin, burning your flesh and no doubt giving you the beginnings of frostbite. You gasped for air, realizing you hadn't been breathing during your time with the mask. Had it been restricting your airways or had you merely forgotten...?

"Lass! What in all _hell_ was that just now?!"

You coughed a few times, trying to clear the itchiness in your throat. Pounding your fist against the ground, you finally composed yourself when you felt a gentle hand rubbing your back. You wanted to tell him to get away, that covering you with his scent was the last thing he should be doing, but you couldn't resist the comfort he brought.

"I'm sorry...!" You rasped finally, picking yourself up carefully. "I just had some weird out-of-body experience, where my mask-"

"Your mask spoke to you?!" The mage exclaimed with wide eyes.

You nodded, still unsure but having no other explanation for what had just occurred. "It did. It told me that I should use it, but I can't justify-"

Christoph gripped you by the shoulders and steadied you in place, forcing you to stare into his eyes. You did so not unwillingly, drinking in their tranquility and resolve. They didn't match the rest of his facial expression.

"If you're worried about us, we can handle ourselves," he said firmly. "Use the mask."

You found it odd that he was saying such a thing after you had told him of the risks associated with using this novel power. He didn't understand that it could kill you all - not just him and Darcy. It was true that you were restraining it more for their sake, nonetheless. Furrowing your brows, you shook your head. Outside of the barrier, you could hear the clinking of Alucard's tendrils, tapping to gain entrance. You couldn't debate this with him much longer.

"It could take over for good," you tried to reason.

"So could fang-face," Darcy chimed in. "I donnae know what's goin' on, but it sounds ta me like this mask of yers may be a better fate than those fang-faces waitin' for us."

 _She's correct,_ The mask whispered, as if it were standing right next to you. _I won't linger if you let me take over, now. You're not strong enough yet. You could be so, so much stronger..._

You gulped. You had wondered when this would happen, having to make an ultimatum regarding your hidden prowess. The times were dire. The mask had evidently been waiting for a time where it could pin you to the wall and plead with you to accept it.

 _That's right, my (f/n),_ it mused. _Let me do all the work while you rest._

"I'm not going to rest," youstated defiantly beneath your breath. "I'm not stupid enough to give you complete control."

There had to be a way to exert your influence above that of the mask. You wouldn't know until you were in the position to do so, however; this is what made your decision tricky. It wasn't like you had any better options, though. You would have to let it in.

 _Ten minutes,_ it hissed. _You have ten minutes until my power is depleted at this level. Let us try to survive._

With that thought, you felt the mask clutch your soul so tightly that you gasped for breath, tugging it as though it was a visible organ, giving you the most raw, visceral pain you had ever experienced. You struggled to keep yourself upright as you felt a wave of warmth flush over your extremities. Your scleras faded to black, and your comrades watched in awe as your pupil exploded into white shards across your eyes. The mask started to form over your jaw and lips, sealing your mouth behind a hardened shell. It stopped just below your nose, refusing to go further. This was what the entity had been talking about. This was its way of showing you that you were still wholly in control.

"What is this...?" Darcy muttered, face contorted in a mix of horror and disbelief. She had seen peculiar things as a member of the Thieves' Guild, but never before had she witnessed the transformation of a dragon priest.

"The mask is taking over," Christoph replied matter-of-factly, barely believing that he had lived to see this. "(F/n) is still in control though, so long as the mask doesn't fully form."

"Can we break it off her if that happens?" The archer questioned in awe. "Snap her outta it?"

The magician shrugged. "Honestly, I have no idea."

A fine, transparent dragon bone armor encapsulated your arms, legs, and torso, completing your transformation. Your hair flew wildly in the wind generated by the changes, the force of your new energy shattering the barrier with a blinding light. Your comrades shrouded their faces from the blast, skidding backward as their feet slipped in the wet snow.

All of the shadows above the barrier had been destroyed by the light, the others retracting back to Alucard's side begrudgingly. He looked on curiously, unsure of what was happening, himself. Beside him, Seras watched with her mouth agape in shock.

"M-master...!" She stammered. "That light..."

He couldn't be sure. It had been so many years since he had last witnessed it. He couldn't be sure, but he thought the light was of Daedric origin. If that was the case - if you had managed to form a pact with a being of that caliber - then the playing field had just gotten a little more level.

"Meridia," he growled, baring his fangs at the fading brightness. "You seek to thwart me again?"

Many of her followers had tried to end his immortal life by entering his domain with a few parlor tricks she had granted them. Only one had come close to succeeding. Still, in the end, he had triumphed. How delectable it would be to take you, one of her servants, as his woman. He could already see the Daedra's face contort with rage when she learned of this.

"Get back, fledgling," he snarled. "Let me handle this."

The blonde gawked at her master. It wasn't uncommon for him to want to fight a powerful opponent by himself, but that didn't make her feel any less frightened for him. She shook her head slowly, hoping he would change his mind. She could still be of use, even with one foot missing. Surely he knew that she could still serve a purpose.

"But I-"

"Silence!" He roared, making the smaller vampire flinch. "Let me collect my unruly little bride."

This was personal for him. This wasn't something he could hand off to his fledgling. He wanted to be the one to finish you, and he wanted to do so without assistance. He wants to reign supreme. He wanted to show you that he could take care of you without the use of allies. Seras merely nodded before leaping away, hovering in the background as the scene unfolded before her. She wanted to help so badly. She wanted to but she knew better than to defy a direct order, particularly one he was quite passionate about. 

"Show yourself to me, priest!" He cried, laughing at the excitement of it all.

How long had it been since he had experienced a _real_ battle? To him, this would only seal his obsession for you. If you could match him on some ground during this fight, he would be even more proud to take you as his queen. It would fill him with happiness that his beautiful lady could give him a run for his money.

Ah, but he was getting ahead of himself. He didn't even know if that would be the case just yet.

The barrier was blown completely away by a burst of air and white light, as if you were responding his doubt. Oh, how he had been wrong to write you off as a weak little mage back when he had snatched you away. He had never expected you to succumb to your mask as a way to defeat him. It made him shake with a mix of arousal and glee that you had resorted to this for him.

 _He_ had brought out this drive within you. _He_ had pushed you to this potential. You were all the more enticing like this, filled to the brim with power.

"Vlad the Impaler." The voice resembled that of a snake; this was fitting for one who supposedly had the blood of dragons. "Or do you prefer _Dracul_?"

He perked up at his old nickname as the debris settled and you were revealed to him. The transparent dragon scale armor and your eyes were what attracted him the most. Next, it was the power emitting from your pore. Finally, it was the determination on your face. You were still in there; you hadn't allowed the mask to overtake you. That was what mattered the most - that you could still be taken as his.

A mask was no fun to dominate. A mask wouldn't display nearly as many of the personality traits or feelings as you would.

"Do you know what that name means in my tongue?" The vampire mused.

"Dragon," the mask responded with scorn.

"That's right." He nodded in affirmation, grinning at your form before preparing to cut you down. "Your host will call me master, as will _you_ , servant of Meridia. It looks like the dragon will consume the priest, after all."

You scoffed. Behind you, Christoph and Darcy watched in a mix of shock, horror, and awe as you waved your hand and summoned a host of atronaches using what appeared to be a mere fraction of your energy. Before the mask, you could have only hosted two.

"(F/n)," Christoph rasped. "What's happened to you?"

Without looking at him, you grunted, "exactly what you knew would happen, mage."

Darcy didn't dare say a word - not when you were like this. It wasn't you; it was some ancient spirit speaking on your behalf. If it wanted her to die, she would die alongside Dracula in this strange land. She nudged the mage to cease speaking, glaring when he tried to protest.

"Let her focus, ya walloper," she remarked surprisingly gently. "We put our trust in her for this one."

Satisfied with the conversation behind you, you simpered and brought all of your attention back to the beast before you. "You have vanquished many followers of Meridia, but you've never faced one of my strength."

"Show me," Alucard snickered. " _Show me, damned priest_!" 

With a wave of your hand, your creature charged. In response, the vampire summoned beings of his own, ones made of shadows and the very darkness that lay dormant in his very soul for decades. The hate surging from his creations was evident as they formed vicious gargoyles and wolves, attempting to gnaw on your summons. To no avail were their offensive behaviours, though, for your creatures curbed them before they could get within a meter of you.

The raven-haired King scowled as you shot a few bolts of ice at him. They were different from your usual elemental magic, though; they were powerful and more durable. If he allowed one to strike him, he would surely lose a limb. He darted out of the way and tested his shadows against it. Despite its new durability, your pike shattered against his tightened wall of darkness. He grinned at this.

"Still not strong enough," he jeered. "You offend me, follower of Meridia. Am I not worthy enough to witness your truest ability?"

You seethed beneath your mask, a reflection of frustration from the being possessing you. Raising your arms gradually, the mask within you harnessed a technique you had not ever seen before. You closed your eyes, both inwardly and outwardly, allowing the energy to stir wickedly within you. The mask suddenly felt scalding hot against your face.

"You are a fool to think that I would not make use of Lady Meridia's strength, vampire," your mask snarled. "This land is where you perish."

"How many before you have claimed just that, I wonder," Alucard taunted, opening his arms as if to invite you into his embrace. "And yet, here I stand!"

You clicked your tongue at his arrogance. It didn't matter, did it? The mask was correct - this was where it would end. No more would approach him with flimsy, ungrounded threats. No more would tread toward his horrid castle, only to succumb to his wicked fangs. You could feel it welling up within you. For the first time in your extended life, you felt undeniably powerful, as if you could take on anyone. Alucard, of course, was no exception.

Your eyes glazed over and your head lulled back as you were levitated into the air by an unseen force. Beneath you, Darcy and Christoph had elected to take cover. You smiled at that, happy that they had enough sense to stay away. When you couldn't control yourself, that was the best bet for anyone around you.

Balls of fire appeared in your palms as you rose tall above the trees. You waited a moment for them to form more completely before clapping them together in front of you. The end result was a deafening crack and the emergence of a more grand ball of light. Below, you watched with satisfaction as the vampire's smirk was wiped from his face. His fledgling, who had also distanced herself, seemed to be terrified for him. She rushed toward him just as you whipped the orb into the hair with little to no strength. As it soared high, you felt yourself wobble, signifying that your ten minutes were almost up.

This _had_ to work.

"But a single candle can banish the darkness of the entire void," the mask uttered, deep in prayer. "May the light of certitude guide my efforts."

Upon its final word, the sky erupted into flames as far as the eye could see, though only for a moment. What evolved from the bright visual was a ball of light that greatly rivalled the one you had held in your hands second earlier. It wasn't quite the size of a sun, but it was close. Alucard took a step backward, the first display of intimidation you had seen in him since your initial encounter. It brought a smile to your face as the mask commanded the orb to rotate.

"She wouldn't dare," the mighty king murmured on the ground below, eyes narrowed and mouth contorted in a snarl.

At once, the voice of the vicious being possessing you resounded across the misty land, " _sunburst_!"

And as the final minute counted down and you hovered back toward the earth, you watched with tired eyes as the orb ceased spinning to glow. It glowed as your feet hit the ice. It glowed as your knees slumped against the coldness. It killed as your chest smashed against the snow.

This technique, sunburst, was one that had been passed down from Meridia, herself. She only granted it to the best and most loyal of her followers, from what you had read. It was designed to eat away at the lives of the undead with its vicious rays of light. From what the books said, no vampire or other being had ever been able to survive it. You had a feeling that Alucard would be no different.

You simpered as you heard the voices of your comrades somewhere behind you. As the remnants of the mask shattered from your visage and the being spoke its final words, you felt your consciousness and control return to you. Your body was weak and you wouldn't be able to move for a while, but at least you would regain your identity. You rested your eyes and focused on the sound of the wind around you. The light gradually faded from the sky, as did the orb, leaving no trace of the ancient Daedra and her influence.

 _Don't rest too easily, little one,_ the mask whispered into your soul. _I did only what I could with what you gave me._

You didn't understand until you cracked open your eyes and saw the silhouette of your enemy only several meters away, standing on his own two feet above the mangled body of his only fledgling. Panic struck your heart as Christoph and Darcy were by your side, unable to see what you had viewed through the smoke and debris. Your mouth hung open. You wanted to beg them to leave before it was too late, before the monster came for them, too. You wanted to tell them to get a head start because it was game over for you. Your words caught in your throat when you made eye contact with a fuming, disoriented Alucard, hair a mess and saliva dripping from his elongated fangs. You had never seen his eyes so furious.

Fuck, had you done it, now.


End file.
